


Burn All Your Things

by Shortandblonde



Series: It Gets Easier [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A whole crime ring really, Androids, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Crimes & Criminals, Detectives, Enemies to Friends, Hurt/Comfort, I gave Zlatko a backstory so there's that, Murder Mystery, POV Multiple, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 is eventually called Caleb, Slow Burn, Switches between Gavin and RK900, anyway, crimes against androids, little bit of everything honestly, we're in for the long haul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-06-12 20:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15347586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortandblonde/pseuds/Shortandblonde
Summary: February, 2039. It's been roughly a week since Hank and Connor found the RK900 prototype inside Cyberlife, and a few days since he'd accepted the invitation for a job at the DCPD.He's paired with one Detective Gavin Reed, and from day one they find themselves digging deep into a part of Detroit that would never have become apparent without the android revolution.One murder turns out to be a serial, and a small part of a much bigger problem.





	1. Ground Zero

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, and thanks for reading! It's been a while. This is about to be my first multi-chapter fic. (That's posted online, anyway. Hooray?)  
> If you want, you can find me over on Tumblr @ short-blonde-andaverage
> 
> As mentioned in the description, several chapters have been written in advance. I'm very excited to share this. Enjoy!

**Processing..  
** **Time: 9:20am  
** **Date: February 15th, 2039**

 RK900 stood beside the desk of Detective Gavin Reed, hands clasped his behind back while he waited. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Reed in Fowler’s office, making a scene with the rest of the precinct as they took note of what was going on. Somewhere across the bullpen, Hank Anderson was chuckling into his coffee while Connor frowned towards the office. RK900 made a small attempt to smile politely at anyone who glanced in his direction, though it hardly comforted him when anyone bothered to smile back. He wondered absently if accepting the DCPD’s offer would be worth it.

 

\------

 The fuck is this, Fowler?”

 “ _He_ is your new partner, Detective Reed. I expect you to show him some modicum of respect.” Fowler leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he glared at the man in front of him. Gavin Reed was a good detective, no doubt. In the months preceding the android revolution, he’d managed to close more cases than the precinct’s own Hank Anderson- a tragedy in it’s own way, but today wasn’t about Hank. It was about Reed, and his damn attitude, and the fact that there was no one else Fowler could justify pairing the RK900 android with. He was the only person who would be able to keep up with the damn thing. He just hoped Gavin’s idiotic nature wouldn’t rub off on him.

 “You know that’s not what I mean.” Gavin mirrored Fowler by crossing his arms. “You can’t just-”

“That’s exactly what you mean.” Fowler stood, pressing his hands down onto his desk. “You are my only option. I don’t care what you think about androids, I don’t care if you just personally think _he’s_ an asshole, and quite frankly, I really don’t care for the fucking lone wolf act you’ve been pulling recently. You’re just as bad as Anderson.”

“Don’t compare me to that-”

 “That _what,_ Reed?” Fowler paused, and when no answer came besides Gavin’s frown, he continued. “Get your shit together, or get it out of my goddamn precinct.”

 Gavin huffed, opening his mouth to speak, and again Fowler cut him off. “No. I don’t care. Now, the RK900 is waiting at your desk and I already gave him the rundown of a case that came in this morning. Get to work, detective.”

 Gavin groaned and got up, half-slamming Fowler’s door on his way out. Sure enough, the precinct’s brand new plastic toy was leaning over his desk, reading something off his monitor. He turned as Gavin approached- and Gavin found himself face-to-face with something so _not quite_ Connor’s mirror image that it was uncanny. He’d heard that the android they’d found inside Cyberlife had been some kind of upgraded version of Connor, but didn’t expect this. Where Connor had a demeanor so calm and a smile so goofy Gavin wanted to slap the damn thing off his face, this model looked straight up _cold._ He wasn’t made to integrate, Gavin was sure of that. The level grey eyes were too unsettling, the height too imposing. The few differences between him and Connor changed his presence completely. He was made to threaten. Cyberlife’s guard dog, or some shit.

 He still had a stupid, seemingly pre-planned introduction, though.

 “Good morning, Detective Reed. I am the RK900 model Lieutenant Hank Anderson and Detective Connor RK800 found inside Cyberlife. I have been assigned as your partner.”

 "RK900, huh? They not give you a fucking name?”

 "When they activated me, Anderson and Connor believed it would be best if I were allowed to choose what I would be called.”

 Gavin rolled his eyes, pushing past the thing to get to his desk and read whatever he’d been looking at. “Well, then. Choose one fast. RK900 is a goddamn mouthful.”

 “I.. apologize.”

 Gavin paused, sparing a brief glance at the android. It hadn’t moved, still watching him with wary grey eyes. “Yeah, whatever, tin-can. You wanna make yourself useful?”

 “I assure you I have already made myself perfectly useful, detective. In fact, I already have a theory on our culprit. Might I suggest we go ahead to the crime scene, and I’ll brief you in the car?”

 “Look,” Gavin sat down, turning to look up at him. RK900 might’ve been built to be imposing or whatever, but he was still just a bit of plastic junk. “I don’t fucking need you. You’re some bullshit hunk of metal that was never meant to see the light of day, and the _only_ reason you’re with me is because no one else in this hell hole could handle being saddled with you. So I’d advise you shut your fucking trap and do what I say.”

 The RK900 stayed silent for a moment, processing. His expression remained still. “Very well, Detective Reed.”

 

\------

 The crime scene wasn’t fifteen minutes away, at an apartment building in the better half of the city. The Wilson Place apartments, room 21B, home of Jacob Whitaker, age 42. Found dead this morning with a bullet in the back of his head. “There are no suspects yet,” RK900 explained, voice all monotone and flat, the same way Connor’s had been when he first showed up. Turned out that Fowler had given the case details to RK900 directly, forcing Gavin to listen to the piece of shit. “But we have a few witnesses to speak with.”

 “Who found him?”

 “A neighbor. An AX400 model android by the name of Shay. Statement says she was leaving to go to work and noticed the blood underneath the door around 40 minutes ago. The case was assigned to us as soon as you arrived for work this morning at 9:17am.” RK900 paused for a moment, looking as if he were going to continue, then apparently thought better of it. When Gavin glanced at him, he caught the LED briefly cycling to yellow in the reflection of the passenger side window.

 “Anything else?”

 RK900 didn’t even turn to look his way. “Nothing, Detective Reed.”

 Gavin found himself largely tempted to bash his head in on the car dash.

 They arrived at the scene in short order. The apartments looked cleaner than they had back in December, when he and Officer Miles had responded to a break-in. Someone had spent time since washing graffiti off the walls and replacing broken windows. They looked almost like they had pre-revolution. Neat, simple, and safe. Well, if it weren’t for the blood now staining the cement outside apartment 21B. The coroner was waiting outside for them as they arrived. His eyes followed RK900 uncertainly as he stepped inside, then looked to Gavin. “You got one of them, too?”

 “It’s our very own upgraded Connor, dug out of Cyberlife’s deepest pits. Fowler’s forcing him on me.”

 Ben frowned at him, then glanced back at RK900. “So what do we call it. Connor two?”

 “I am being given the liberty of choosing my own name,” RK900 responded, and Gavin felt like rolling his eyes again. The android didn’t turn around from where he was inspecting the lock on the front door. “I expect until then, you may refer to me however you see fit.” _Now_ he turned, eyes skipping over Ben to rest on Gavin. “There was no forced entry. The door was locked from the inside prior to the responding officer breaking it open.”

 “No shit, Sherlock. Tell me something that isn’t obvious.” He stepped inside, over the body that was practically lying in the doorway. Jacob Whitaker had been a pretty average guy, if built like a semi-truck and relatively unclean. Dirty dishes and empty coke cans littered the coffee table in his living room. The TV was dusty, as was the table it sat on, and nothing decorated the walls to add a personal touch to an already bland apartment. He frowned at it. “Not much to see here.”

 “The suspect would have had a key to the apartment, or another way out. The fire escape?”

 “Hm. Maybe. See anything with your special android eyes?” 

RK900 paused. Then he walked into an adjoining room where the door was open, approached a desk, swiped at it with two fingers, and placed them in his mouth.

 “Hey, what the hell?”

 “There are traces of thirium-310 on the desk. You can’t see them, as they have already deteriorated.”

 “Is that important?”

 “I.. don’t believe so.” RK900 turned back to Gavin. “The traces are several months old. However, they are not all from the same model. I can’t get a clear reading. It may be something to keep in mind, as our suspect is an android.”

 “Slow down, dipshit. I don’t recall us coming to that conclusion.”

 RK900 shrugged. “There are no fingerprints here other than Whitaker’s. That and the thirium would indicate an android.”

 “That’s it? Humans can cover up their fingerprints, dumbass. It’s been a vital part of committing crime since, like, the early 1900’s.” He started back out of the apartment, stepping carefully over Whitaker’s body.

 “Late 1800’s,” RK900 said as he followed, and this time Gavin really did roll his eyes. They walked over to the neighboring apartment, and RK900 knocked. He smiled politely at the android who opened the door. “Good morning, Miss Shay. I am a detective from the DCPD, we have some questions about Whitaker.”

 “Oh. Of course.”

 RK900 paused before he answered, then stuttered, then Gavin pushed his way in front of him and offered his own smile at Shay. She was like most androids, built to be the conventional kind of pretty, with blonde hair hanging loosely to her shoulders to frame a sweet face. She looked nervous, too. “My name is Gavin Reed. Can you tell us about your neighbor?”

 She nodded her affirmation again, and after a few minutes Gavin came to the easy conclusion that she didn’t know shit. She’d only moved into the apartment days ago, as it had been less than a month since androids were even allowed to own their own property. She didn’t know a thing about Jacob Whitaker other than that he was a dead man and a murder victim. Whitaker’s other neighbor had yet to return to Detroit since he fled back in November, according to the couple living in apartment 25B. 28B said they knew of Whitaker, and had lived alongside him for years, but that they never spoke. Apartments 20B, 19B, 33B, 17B, and 30B were all empty. The fire escape theory was solid, as all windows in Whitaker’s home were unlocked, but it gave them nothing to work off of. No one had noticed anyone on the fire escape in the previous hours, and what security cameras the apartment building had didn’t cover the escape, which made them fucking useless in Gavin’s opinion. It was the landlord, who finally bothered to pop in around 11am, who told them Whitaker used to own an android to help him at work.

 “And what was his work?” Gavin asked, arms crossed. RK900 had long fucked off to his own line of investigations, returning to the crime scene to have one last look at the apartment. For a negotiator, he sure as hell didn’t know how to question potential witnesses.

 “He was a mechanic down the road at Sal’s, for a while. They fix older model cars? Lost his job back in October, couldn’t pay rent. I was getting ready to give the asshat an eviction notice.”

 “Two of you weren’t on good terms?”

 “He hadn’t paid me in four months, so, no.”

 “Any idea what happened to the android?”

 The landlord shook his head. “Nope. Stopped seeing it around the same time all androids started goin’ crazy.” He smirked. “Plastic claiming it can feel. Still seems weird.”

 Gavin chose to ignore the comment, though he agreed. “You know what model it was? It’s name?”

 “Nope.”

 “Thank you for your time, sir.”

 Gavin let out a sigh and returned to the apartment to find RK900 standing back in the study where they’d found the desk, staring around the room. “Find anything, Nines?”

 “I don’t believe so.” RK900 turned to look at him. “Nines?”

 “Needed something better to call you. RK900 was getting on my fucking nerves.” 

“Nines nodded. “You would not have returned so quickly if you had not learned anything.”

 “That your way of asking me for information?”

 “Yes.”

 “Alright.” Gavin leaned back against a wall. “Well, Whitaker had an android who helped him at work at a local car shop. Disappeared back in November. No one knows anything else about it, so I guess the shop is our only lead.”

 Nines looked thoughtful for a moment. “Sal’s?”

 “Yeah, how’d you-”

"Whitaker is wearing a t-shirt with the logo.”

 “Smartass.” Gavin turned, nodding to the door. “Let’s go.”

 

\------

 Sal, as it turned out, was the exact kind of sleazebag Gavin expected of someone who still dealt in oil and gasoline. She was as nearly as tall as Nines, with wide shoulders and a heavy build. Oil and other miscellaneous black shit Gavin didn’t know how to identify stained her hands and her clothing. There was even a bit smeared across her face. They found her around 1pm, after Gavin had stopped somewhere for lunch and suffered under RK900’s suffocating silence for thirty minutes. Sal watched them approach and made a half-hearted attempt to wipe the grit away from her hands with a rag, doing nothing more than smearing the shit around.

 “Mornin’,” she said as they entered her garage, leaning against a table lined with equipment Gavin wouldn’t ever know how to use. “Heard about Jack. Figured you’d be by.”

 “His name was Jacob,” RK900 said, tilting his head to the side in a manner that was similar to Connor’s when he wasn’t clear on something. It was infuriating. “Was Jack a nickname?”

 Sal shrugged. “Old inside joke. S’what he preferred around us.”

 “Oh.”

 “Surely you’ve got better questions than that?”

 “We do.” Gavin stepped in front of his partner, shaking her hand. “Detective Gavin Reed. I need to know about Jacob’s android.”

 “Oh, Marla? Shit, somethin’ happen to her too?” Sal pulled her hand away faster than was necessary, taking a step back towards the table. Gavin wiped his own hand against his pants.

 “No. We don’t know where she is.”

 “Good. That was intentional.” Sal picked something up off the table and moved around to the car behind them. It was an old model convertible, something Gavin hadn’t seen in years but recognized from his childhood. The hood was open to expose all of it’s wires and cables. “Marla deviated back in, oh, must’ve been early October. ‘Nother employee of mine sent her off somewhere safe.”

 “Was Whitaker aware?”

 “No. You think he’d agree with me sending off his expensive ass toy? No, I didn’t tell him.” She looked back at them, hesitating for a moment before she glanced up at RK900, eyes lingering on his LED. “Employee’s name was Zlatko Andronikov. He stopped showin’ up for work back in November, but..” she shrugged. “So did a lot of people. I’ll jot his address down for you.”

 “It’d be appreciated.”

 “Is Marla a suspect?”

“Is there a reason she should be?”

 Sal handed Gavin a slip of paper, ripped from a receipt. “Marla’d come in sometimes behind Jack with that white plastic of hers showin’ through the skin on her face, or with blue smeared on her arms. I don’t think he treated her right. You ask me? Marla had every right to beat that asshole senseless when she woke up. She didn’t, but I wouldn’t blame her if she came back to do it now.”

“Right.” He stepped back, glancing down at the address. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Reynolds.”

 “Sal is fine.” She made another attempt to wipe the grease off her hands, succeeding only a little before she reached to shake RK900’s hand as she had done Gavin’s. “Hope you two find what you’re lookin’ for. Didn’t catch your name..”

 “I don’t have one yet,” Nines said. He tried to give her a small smile, then pulled away. “Thank you again, Sal.”

 They left, and Gavin could feel Sal’s suddenly heated glare burning into the back of his skull.

 

\------

 “Detective Reed?”

 “Yes, asshole?

 “This is the precinct.”

Gavin turned to look at his partner as the car parked itself, brow furrowed. RK900 had been silent for the entire fifteen minute drive from Sal’s, seemingly not doing anything more than staring out the front windshield at the small amount of snow that had begun to fall. He turned to meet Gavin’s eyes. His LED was cycling yellow. “Yeah. Sure is.”

 “I had thought we were going to the Andronikov house.”

 “We’re headed there tomorrow. I have some paperwork to get through and a suspect from another case to interrogate.”

 “Oh.” RK900 frowned. It was the most expression Gavin had seen from him so far, other than the forced smiles he’d aimed at Shay and Sal. “What will I be doing?”

 “I don’t fucking know. I don’t really care, either.” He stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut. “Do my paperwork if you’re so inclined.” As he started towards the entrance, RK900 stopped behind him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned around. “What? The fuck is wrong with you?”

 RK900 looked as if he were going to speak, then frowned. The LED went back to blue. “Nothing, detective. I apologize.”

 

\------

 **Processing..  
** **Time: 2:00am  
** **Date: February 16th, 2039**

 The precinct was relatively quiet, despite the fact that the night shift crowd had long since arrived and got to work. RK900 sat in the chair at Gavin’s desk, hands folded in his lap, absentmindedly watching the proceedings of those around him. He wondered if he should’ve gone back to Hank Anderson’s house. He’d been staying with the old lieutenant and Connor since they’d found him in side Cyberlife nearly a week ago while running investigations for the DCPD. Connor woke him immediately. Hank had welcomed him with open arms.

 It’d felt like an intrusion.

 Hank and Connor had developed lives and routines around each other since the events in November. They were comfortable. _Connor_ was comfortable. RK900 felt leagues behind him when it came to puzzling out what it meant to simply be alive. All he had to go off of was a few thousand lines of pre-programmed responses and one or two fuzzy memories uploaded from a previous RK800. He didn’t have Connor’s experience, or any of his attachments. The emotional or existential problems Connor _did_ run into were things that felt unreal to RK900. Things he couldn’t even begin to worry about.

 “Hey, kid, aren’t you coming?” Hank had asked as he was pulling on a coat and preparing to leave. Connor had already made his way outside.

 “I still have some work to do. I will see you later.”

 “M’kay. You know where the spare key is, so don’t go breaking through my window.” A joke, about something Connor had done. RK900 knew the story, vaguely remembered _doing_ it in what few of Connor’s memories he had.

 “I won’t. Good night, Lieutenant.”

 “Night, kid.”

 Trying to fit himself into someone else’s life didn’t feel right. Not when they were Connor,  who was already trying to figure himself out. So RK900 leaned back into Gavin’s chair and shut his eyes.

  **Initializing Standby..**

**Standby Initialized.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I don't know anything about how police work, yet?
> 
> A quick note on RK900, in this story: He isn't actually an upgraded version of Connor. They share several of the same abilities and appearance, but he's actually a prototype for a military unit. I based this on the fact that Amanda says the state had ordered 200,000 units in the scene where RK900 is introduced, and that in an early scene with Kara, the news reports that 200,000 military unit androids had been commissioned. I'm probably wrong, but it's a concept I like, so I'm going to explore it a little.


	2. Zlatko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin had been lucky enough, in his career, to have never worked a case in which a body had been left torn to pieces. He wondered if what they found in Andronikov's home might count as an end to his luck. 
> 
> (Don't worry, there's no real gore in this chapter! There'll be a warning if there ever is.)

They found Zlatko Andronikov rotting in his backyard. He’d been dead since November, according to Nines’ analysis, and Gavin figured that was the real reason he’d stopped showing up to work. When the coroner arrived he confirmed Nines’ initial theory on the cause of death- blunt force trauma- and though there wasn’t much to the body due to decomposition, there was evidence enough of several other injuries. Odds were he’d been beat to death. Gavin just found the body downright disgusting, and as soon as they’d reported the scene he’d entered Zlatko’s home through the open back door just to be rid of the sight. 

If he were being honest with himself, what he found inside wasn’t much better than a long-abandoned corpse. The wide downstairs living room was clean. It didn’t allude to much other than a scuffle where furniture had been knocked over or broken. There were shotgun shells on the ground matching the weapon laying near Zlatko’s body, but there was no blood to be found, only splinters in the wooden floor. Nines didn’t seem to find anything worth noting when he finally followed Gavin inside and made his own quick examination of the room.

It was when they started in the rooms upstairs that Gavin found himself wondering if Marla had really found the safety Sal said she’d been promised. The first clue that Zlatko Andronikov had been some kind of sadistic asshole was a worktable in the middle of the first room, where an android lay with it’s chest open to the air. Others were broken and plucked apart, parts and empty shells of bodies stored in corners or against walls. Tools much like the ones back at Sal’s shop laid organized on shelves and placed neatly into boxes. He wondered if there was blue blood staining them that he couldn’t see. As he approached the table, it occurred to him that androids were considered  _ living beings _ now, that the bits laying around should be treated more like bodies and less like part of the scenery. He’d been lucky enough to never work a case in which a body had been torn apart before, though, and figured he’d leave sorting that out to the coroner.

The android on the table was a model he was sure he’d seen before, a female with blonde hair and wide blue eyes. The plating, or cover, or whatever it was called on the abdomen was open, revealing the inner anatomy. Tubes and wires and blue blood crossed paths between several biocomponents, covered with a layer of dust from the time left unattended. It looked like the engine of the car at Sal’s, if a car had parts that were made to vaguely resemble a human heart. Gavin leaned forward, squinting to get a better look at a biocomponent that looked like it had been in the middle of being removed when Zlatko must’ve gotten distracted. He reached down to swipe away some of the dust.

As soon as his fingers made contact, the android shuddered, arching it’s back like it was having a damn spasm. Gavin jerked back, swallowing thickly as he watched the components inside the chest flash blue and turn red. Those wide blue eyes blinked and looked to Gavin, desperate, and Gavin found himself frozen. The android reached out, fingers just barely grasping the sleeve of his jacket. She made some attempt to speak, but her voice was so full of static it couldn’t be understood.

The android’s struggle was over within a few seconds. It’s movements slowed, it’s voice faded, the light from it’s components dimmed. She froze with that same wide-eyed expression locked on Gavin. He let out a slow breath. RK900 was in the doorway a moment later, shoulders tensed as he scanned the room. “Detective Reed?”

“I- uh,” He swallowed again and straightened his posture, trying to look less shocked than he felt. “The android, it woke up. For a moment.” He sniffed. RK900 walked over, looking down at the android.

“A VS400. Registered as Sarah.” RK900’s expression didn’t change, but something in the inflection of his voice did. Something Gavin could just barely place in the realm of disappointment or sorrow. “She is no longer active.”

“She’s just been laying here? For five fucking months?”

“Androids go into a standby mode to preserve power. She must have done so, and woke up upon stimulus.” RK900 looked back at Gavin, who was stepping away from the table.

“Well, uh, there’s still a few rooms we need to check out. Come on.”

The second room they stepped into was somehow worse than the first. Near as Gavin could tell it was storage for all the broken bodies Zlatko had tampered with and lost interest in. A polar bear like the ones they kept in zoos laid motionless inside a cage, old thirium and other liquids matting it’s fur together. Parts of synthetic skin had been torn away to reveal all of the moving parts beneath. As he walked by it, Gavin wondered distantly if animals could turn deviant, too. Humanoid androids lay everywhere else, either in pieces or standing against the walls like shop mannequins. Nines didn’t seem to hesitate at the sight of his own people dead and disposed of, walking straight in and moving to examine what was laying around with businesslike purpose. He paused in front of an android that was against a wall. “Most of them are missing similar biocomponents.”

“Your point?”

“They are parts that would be very valuable.” RK900 turned to look at him, hands clasped behind his back. “And many of them are drained of thirium. It is an important part in the making of red ice. Andronikov has pipes laying on a shelf downstairs. Perhaps he used the sell of thirium to afford his addiction.”

“Or the fancy house.” Gavin glanced around. “Alright, sound theory. I think there was a basement we haven’t had a look at yet. Come on.” He started towards the door.

“Wait,” RK900 said, and Gavin turned around.

“What? We don’t have all day to wander around this asshole’s house.” And, truth be told, the motionless androids were goddamn creepy. Gavin wanted away from them. RK900 stood nearly as still as they did, with his hands behind his back and his posture straight. His gaze was low, avoiding Gavin’s. “I believe some of these androids could be reactivated. The parts stored in here and in the other room might allow me to.. help them.”

“That’s not our fucking job. Bring it up with Fowler if you want them saved, or whatever. Now let’s go.” He turned and left without waiting on Nines, avoiding looking anywhere but the door.

Behind him, the RK900 paused, his brow furrowed. He looked almost disappointed.

 

\------

RK900 didn’t have much to say on the subject of the basement. They found more busted androids, all missing parts or thirium. One laying in a back corner no longer had a casing on the back of it’s head, exposing what Gavin supposed was the equivalent of the android’s brain. The back most room held a shitload of expensive looking technology reminiscent of what Gavin had seen in an interview with Elijah Kamski some years ago, on the subject of building androids. Cables hung down from the ceiling and connected the machine to monitor’s along the left side of the room. All in all, the technology looked more akin to an old sci-fi horror film than anything built in the current century. Nines reached over to a monitor that was still in working order. The skin on his hand peeled back to expose white plastic, and he closed his eyes as he connected. The LED flickered yellow. “It appears he was resetting them,” He said, and that was that.

 

\-------

They left some time after 2pm, heading back to Sal’s shop with new questions in mind. The number of androids laying around Andronikov’s home meant that the pool of suspects for the Whitaker murder was potentially a hell of a lot bigger than they’d thought. Gavin had the feeling the two deaths were connected, and if there was one thing he was good for an android wasn’t, it was instinct. As they parked, Gavin glanced at RK900 and found him unnaturally still, simply looking beyond the windshield at something Gavin couldn’t see. He noticed the LED cycling red in the reflection of the window.

“Hey, dipshit. What’s with the red?”

“Excuse me, detective?” RK900 turned towards him, expression schooled into stillness. The LED remained the same. Gavin gestured at his own face.

“Your LED. It’s red. Doesn’t that mean you have an error, or some shit?”

“It is an indication of many things. A high stress level, for example. Or that something is not functioning correctly.”

“So what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I.. it is nothing.”

“Clearly.”

“I was simply thinking of the androids in Andronikov’s home. It seems that he was promising to help them, and then wiping their memories or dismantling them for his own purposes. They must have felt..” he struggled visibly for a moment, searching for an adequate word for an emotion he had yet to experience. “Scared.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Gavin scratched the back of his head and glanced back at RK900’s LED, which had cycled back to yellow. If he didn’t know any better he’d say the android looked concerned. “You called Fowler earlier. What’d he say about the ones in the storage room?”

The LED turned blue and Nines finally met his gaze. “He will have them transported to one of the Cyberlife stores now run by Jericho. Perhaps those that can be reactivated will be able to tell us something.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” He opened the door, catching a glimpse of Sal as she stepped outside the shop for a smoke break. She gave him a friendly wave, her hands still covered in grease. Nines followed him as he went to greet her.

“Find anythin’ worthwhile, boys?”

Gavin suddenly remembered that she didn’t yet know of Zlatko’s death. He stopped about a foot away from her and rolled a shoulder. He hated doing these kinds of things. He wasn’t sure if Sal actually cared that much about Zlatko, but either way, it was better to just cut to the chase. “I’m sorry to inform you, Mrs. Reynolds, but we found Zlatko Andronikov dead inside his home. We were hoping you could answer some more questions about him and his relationship to Jacob Whitaker.”

She took a drag on her cigarette, seeming to take in the information. She nodded. “Doesn’t surprise me. It’s a shame, though. Someone kill him ‘cause he was helping androids?”

“We believe the opposite, actually.” He sighed inwardly, realizing that  _ of course _ it wasn’t Andronikov she gave a shit about. It was that android, Marla. “Based on what we found in the house, it appeared that Zlatko was trying to lure androids to him with the promise of help and using them to gather.. parts.”

“Well, damn. Damn.” She took another drag, released a breath. RK900 shifted beside Gavin.

“We did not identify Marla while we were there, but some of the androids found had the potential to be successfully reactivated. If she is among them, I will inform you.”

“Thanks, I’d really appreciate it.” She offered Nines something of a weak smile, then looked back to Gavin. “So, you have questions?”

“How did Zlatko and Jacob feel about each other?”

She shrugged. “There were friendly ‘nuff, I suppose. Jack was pretty pissed when Zlatko stopped showin’ up for work. He had to take over for the slack. Part of the reason I fired him was his complaining about doing his damn job.”

“Either of them have an addiction? Red ice or otherwise?”

“I suspected that Zlatko did, but he never did it here. Could’ve gotten rid of him for the stink, but a good mechanic’s hard to come by.” She thought for a moment, tapping ash off her cigarette. “Now that I think about it, Jack did keep buyin’ something off him. Wasn’t red ice, though. Parts. Jack said they were for some project he was workin’ on.”

“Could you have identified them as android parts?” Nines asked. She shook her head.

“Never saw ‘em. Assumed they were car parts. Jack had a thing for models that were practically antiques, figured he was fixing one up.”

Nines nodded, then looked to Gavin. They asked a few more questions that got them nowhere, about Zlatko and the kind of person he’d been, if anyone hated the guy’s guts. “Thank you for your time, again, Sal,” Gavin said, after he’d asked all he could think to.

“No problem. You let me know about those androids. Even if Marla isn’t with them.. I’ve got jobs that need filled. Maybe one of ‘em would want to make a good mechanic.” 

“I will give them your name.” RK900 smiled, reaching out to shake her hand again. She took it.

“Good luck.”

 

\------

A second look at Whitaker’s home told them little. Gavin found an address book in a kitchen drawer- a  _ physical _ address book, which suggested sketchy activity in itself- with Zlatko’s name listed within one of the first few pages. There was no way of knowing which names were important, so Gavin filed it away for the evidence locker and continued looking. RK900 took note of a plastic bin in the back of a closet that held traces of thirium similar to the stains on the desk.

All in all, Whitaker seemed to have been a very boring man. His kitchen held little in way of things to cook, other than a few frozen meals in the freezer and few perishables in the cabinet. He had nothing in terms of decor. Not that Gavin could judge him in those respects. His own apartment was just as bland, his own kitchen just as empty.

He tried not to linger on that line of thought as he returned home that night, or to wonder if people found him just as boring as he’d found Whitaker.

The night was spent with his usual routine. Lock the door, slip out of his coat, pop a frozen pizza into the oven and shower while it cooked. He ate on the couch while watching anything but the news. Sometimes after eating he’d sweep the floors and wipe down the counters, an attempt at keeping his hands busy thinly guised as cleanliness. He rarely washed dishes, as he kept stocked up on paper plates and plastic cups. Not very good for the environment, he knew, but it’s not like anyone was around to judge him. On better days he spent half an hour or so with the guitar in the bedroom corner. On better nights he was with coworkers from the precinct, wasting time in a bar and discussing everything but their current cases.

Most of the time he preferred being alone, even if he were already lonely.

At one in the morning he crashed and went to bed, trying not to think about how android bodies torn apart might look had they been human. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is a bit short, sorry guys! It just felt like the best place to end it. Chapter three is longer. 
> 
> If you want to talk androids or anything, really, you can find me on tumblr @ short-blonde-andaverage and on twitter @ _ravenify


	3. Reset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marla looked back up at Caleb, her expression dark. “Goes to show how much they can be trusted, right?”

Nines was waiting by Gavin’s desk in the morning, just as he had been the past few days. He seemed to straighten as Gavin approached.

“I have decided on a name,” he said, none too bluntly. Gavin sat down and ignored him in favor of checking the reports. “I would like to be called Caleb.”

“Where the hell’d you get that from?”

“The files Lieutenant Anderson and Connor retrieved from Cyberlife on my model series indicated that it was my intended name.”

Gavin swiveled his chair around to face him, frowning. “Don’t you, like, want to choose something that’s  _ not _ what they were gonna saddle you with?”

RK900- Caleb- returned the frown. “I could not think of a better name, and I am tired of being referred to as my model. If you have a different suggestion, I am open to it.”

“Nope. Fair enough.” He stood and grabbed the keys off his desk, flashing Caleb a clearly fake smile. “Well, we’re off schedule today, and there’s no leads, so I’m headed out. See you around, asshole.”

He left without so much as a glance. Caleb lingered for a moment by the desk, then took his leave as well. They had yet to hear back from Jericho about the androids from Andronikov’s home.

 

\------

**Processing..  
** **Time: 12:48am  
** **Date: February 17th, 2039**

The Cyberlife store in Capitol Park had been neatly remodeled in the months since the revolution. Caleb hadn’t seen it personally prior to the changes, but a quick search showed him that the building looked significantly different. The big, open windows in the front of the shop were now dimmed, allowing those inside some sense of privacy while they waited. The back storage areas had been converted into smaller, more private rooms, where technicians both human and android could perform repairs or updates. All in all, it was now more the equivalent of a human hospital than a store. A PJ500 registered as Josh greeted Caleb from behind the front desk as he walked in.

“Hey, you must be the new guy at the DCPD. We were told you’d be stopping by.” He stepped out from behind the desk, holding out his hand. “Name’s Josh.”

“Caleb.” He reached out and accepted, artificial skin peeling back as he was given a surge of information. A list of names and models of the androids from Andronikov’s home.

“Ah, you chose a name.” Josh smiled. As the transfer ended he pulled away, expression faltering slightly. “Wish we could’ve met under better circumstances. Come on,” he started off towards one of the doors that led into the back. “I’m glad the DCPD chose to contact us. Communication between them and Jericho means we look better in the eyes of the public. And it shows we’ve made progress.”

“It was Captain Fowler’s suggestion to come to Jericho.”

“Fowler seems a good man. I haven’t had the chance to meet him, but Markus trusts him. Good enough for me.”

Caleb paused for a moment, running a search on  _ Josh  _ and  _ PJ500 _ and  _ Markus. _ Sure enough, the android knew Markus personally. He was evidently one of the faces of the revolution. Caleb wondered just how much trust it would take to follow someone into such a thing, if he himself could trust someone as much.

They stepped through the door into what was once the warehouse portion of Cyberlife’s central store. Caleb marvelled at how it really did look like a hospital. The door opened into a wide hallway that branched off into several corridors. They pushed passed several technicians, patients, and others that were speaking or at-work in the hall. Josh greeted quite a few of them. It wasn’t quite as comfortable as a doctor’s office might be- the floors were still concrete, broken up every now and then by rugs, and several walls remained unpainted. Towards the end of the hall Caleb could see that a few rooms were still in construction, marked by the carpentry that preceded real walls. Josh broke off into a thin corridor on their right and led them to a large room that housed several patients at once. Their spaces could be separated by curtains that hung from the ceiling, but few were closed. Those that were open held androids who were resting or socializing with their neighbors.

“There is only so much we can do for an android who has been shut down,” Josh was saying as he turned to Caleb. “We can’t always save them. There are three that we were able to help. Donald, Marla, and Alex,” He gestured to three patients in beds behind him, an AP700, a WM400, and a CX100, respectively. Caleb felt himself frown as he recalled the details of Andronikov’s case. They had found 27 mostly intact bodies.

“Three?”

“As I said.. There’s only so much we can do. It’s complicated, and the reasons vary, but.. Yes, three. Marla and Donald said they’d both be willing to speak with you. Alex doesn’t recall much about, well, anything. His memory’s been corrupted.

Caleb nodded. “I will speak to them. Thank you.”

“Thank you as well, Caleb.” Josh smiled at him again, somehow more genuine than before. “We may not have been able to save them all, but saving  _ anyone _ is a good thing.” He glanced back at the patients behind him. “I’d suggest speaking to Marla first. She’s been awake for a while, and she’s ready for you.”

“Of course. Thank you,” he said again, and walked towards her.

Marla was a WM400 model, designed initially for maintenance and utility. A scan told him nothing he didn’t already know; previously registered to Jacob Whitaker, employed to Salandra Reynolds, reported missing in October 2038. Like all androids she’d been made to appear in her 20’s or 30’s. She had a significant number of freckles across her face and neck, and brown hair pulled into a bun. She had removed her LED.

“Marla?” Caleb asked, suddenly nervous. For the past two days Gavin had done most of the talking. Caleb’s previous model might’ve been designed for negotiation, but he wasn’t. RK900’s purpose was to be a prototype for a military unit. Many of the same capabilities meant to be used in a completely different way. He knew very little, really, about speaking to the victim of a crime. The programming was all there, but he felt it meant nothing without the experience. Marla looked up at him and met his eyes.

“That’s me.”

“My name is Caleb, I am a detective with the DCPD.” He felt like he should be displaying a badge, like Gavin did. The precinct had yet to give him one. “I would like to ask you some questions about Zlatko Andronikov.”

“Wait, can I ask you something first?”

He hesitated. “Of course?”

“I heard Jacob was dead. Is that true?”

“Yes. He was found dead in his home two days ago. Cause of death was a bullet wound.”

“Then why am I being questioned about Zlatko?”

“We believe the two deaths may be connected. It appeared Zlatko had been murdered by some of the androids in his-” he paused. He couldn’t say  _ possession _ , though that was the first word that came to mind. “That he had imprisoned. He also appeared to be selling salvaged Cyberlife biocomponents to Whitaker. I would like to confirm these theories.”

“Well, consider them confirmed.” Marla crossed her arms, seeming to huddle in on herself. “He’d been selling things to Jacob for the better part of a year. Parts in cardboard boxes. I didn’t think much about them before I left, and then I was so desperate, I guess I forgot about it.”

“When you left?”

“When I deviated. I ran away from Jacob and went to Sal. She was the only person I could think of who might help me. She was at work, with Zlatko. He said I had a tracker that he could remove for me, but that the equipment was in his home. I agreed to go with him.” She looked back up at Caleb. “Goes to show how much _ they  _ can be trusted, right?”

“What was Whitaker doing with these parts?” he asked, suddenly wondering if it was a good thing Gavin wasn’t with him. She wouldn’t have spoken to a human detective.

“Selling them. He had this book-”

“A physical book?”

“Yeah. He kept track of all his clients. And I know Zlatko was taking them from androids he tricked, like me, because- here.” She held her hand out to him, the skin peeling away. “This’ll be over faster if I show you.”

He reached out and accepted.

A sense of urgency flooded his systems, tensing every part of his body and causing breath he didn’t need to catch in the back of his throat. He felt his regulator rush and his thirium pump struggle to keep with the racing pulse. Everything felt tight. Red clouded the edges of his vision, mixing with errors he couldn’t read or make sense of. The thumping of his pump created an almost painful sensation in his chest. There was an intense pressure at the back of his neck, connected to his main systems. He involuntarily pulled at the machinery holding his arms in place, but couldn’t work them free.

_ “I’m surprised you actually believed me!”  _ A voice said, from somewhere to the right. Zlatko Andronikov stepped into the field of view, typing something on a tablet.  _ “I figured you’d seen all those things I sold Jacob. Figured you’d question ‘em.”  _ He looked up and smiled.  _ “I’ve been working on all this for a year, and the naivety of your kind is  _ still _ surprising.” _

_ “Let me go!”  _ Caleb felt Marla scream, her voice hoarse and filled with static. She tugged hard at the machine again. “ _ You said you’d help me!” _

Marla was crying, Caleb realized, felt the tears running down his own cheeks. She kept struggling.  _ “I say a lot of things, sweetheart.” _ Andronikov placed the tablet down and turned away from her.  _ “I’m shutting down your control of.. everything, really. It’s like goin’ to sleep. Any last words?” _

_ “You son of a bitch! You-” _

The connection broke. Caleb felt more than heard himself gasp as he vision returned. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, hand still outstretched. He listened to the sounds of the room around him, people talking and monitors beeping and footsteps. It was a moment before he returned his gaze to Marla. She met him with a glare. “How’s that for evidence? See everything you need to?”

“Yes, I- thank you, Marla.” He swallowed, an unnecessary action, and readjusted the cuffs of his jacket. “I believe that is all I need.”

“Glad I could help.”

He started to walk away, then paused. “I have spoken with Sal. She said that you are welcome to go to her, if you would like. The others are welcome as well.”

“Thanks,” she said, but she shifted her gaze away. Her brow was furrowed. “I’ll think about it.”

 

\------

Usually, once Gavin got home, he stayed there. Especially on days he was off-call, when he didn’t have to deal with all of the bullshit that came with getting pulled into a case at a wildly inconvenient time. Usually, though, he hadn’t left a trip to the grocery store neglected for several weeks. A severe lack of anything in his fridge and a near shortage of toothpaste forced him a quick run to the nearest grocery he knew of. He did everything he could to keep the trip short, because he hated these places and there was one hell of a headache beginning to build up in his temple. He was stepping around an aisle on his way out when he bumped into someone, knocking a few boxes from her hands.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, stepping back so he could help her pick them up. She smiled as he handed them back to her, LED flickering blue. She looked like one of those housekeeper androids, the older model that he remembered seeing absolutely everywhere when Cyberlife had released them a few years back. He chose not to think about the implications of having not seen as many in the following years.

“No, it’s okay.” She said, still smiling. Then she stepped around him and went back to shopping.

Gavin paused. Something felt  _ off _ about her, in the easy, pleasant way she spoke, combined with the fact that she was shopping for food androids didn’t need and still sporting a Cyberlife logo beneath a perfectly normal jacket. It could be nothing, he reasoned, but he stepped back into the aisle anyway and pretended to examine a shelf of boxed macaroni while he watched her from his peripheral. After a moment, a human woman stepped into the aisle.

“Hey, did you get everything?”

“Yes, Christine. I have everything you asked for.”

“Good, lets go.”

The android followed the woman back towards the front of the store, passing by Gavin. He watched them leave. Every android he’d come across since November had lost their stiffness, or worked away from their robotic way of speaking. Even Caleb, in the two days since he’d shown up, had seemed like he was trying to be less android-like and more  _ himself. _ They’d all been deviant. He wondered if there were still some, like this one, who was carrying the woman’s bags for her as they walked out into the parking lot, that had yet to deviate. It was something, he decided, he might have to ask Connor.

  
  


\------

Caleb returned to the precinct at nearly 3pm after questioning the other witnesses. He finished up all of Reed’s paperwork, reorganized the files in his terminal, logged all of the names from Whitaker’s address book, and by five he was reading over cold cases and making half-hearted attempts to solve them. At 6pm, Hank Anderson stopped by to lean on his desk.

“Thought you were off the clock today.”

“I was. But there were witnesses from a case that I could interview, and I did not have anything better to do. So I returned here.”

Hank frowned. Caleb had only known him for a little over a week, but he had already figured out that Hank had one tell-tale frown for when he was concerned about something. He reached up and scratched at his beard. “Noticed you haven’t come home the past few nights. Where’ve you been?”

Caleb hesitated. It would be beneficial here to lie, but he didn’t know what he could possibly say that would sound convincing. He settled for the truth. “Here.”

“Oh, come on, kid.” Hank stood straighter, crossing his arms. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. You can’t stay here at night.”

“I don’t see why not. Androids do not require comfort to rest, nor do they require much rest at all. I am perfectly fine remaining here.”

“No one requires comfort, smartass. That’s why it’s a comfort.” Hank looked over at Connor, who was waiting by the doors to the lobby. “Come on,” He put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “You can keep crashin’ on my couch. There’s no need to-”

“I am fine, Lieutenant.” Caleb looked up at Hank, unmoving. “I do not wish to be an inconvenience to you or Connor.” 

“You’re not a goddamn inconvenience. Come on.”

Caleb sighed, then looked at Connor. He was met with a smile. Of course. Figuring there was only a 19% chance he’d be able to get Anderson to give up in trying to persuade him, he stood and followed them out of the precinct.

He’d been on standby on their couch for five hours when a report woke him at 2:26am. He changed quietly into a new set of clothes, slipped out the front door, and called a taxi to the crime scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thanks for reading! 
> 
> One of the scenes this chapter was added very last minute, as it was originally intended to happen way later on. So, apologies for that. But I hope you're ready for some action next chapter!
> 
> Also! You may have noticed I have a set number of chapters now. That's not entirely set in stone, but the whole fic will end up being around 11 or 12 chapters. I also have a few one shots planned that will be relevant, hence the addition of a series.


	4. Vigilante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So, what happened this time?" 
> 
> Called out to a crime scene at two in the fucking morning wasn't how Gavin wanted to start the day.

Gavin’s phone rang four times before he finally let out a groan and reached across his bed for it. He didn’t bother to check who was calling. After all, the only calls he ever got were from work. 

“What?” he asked, possibly a little too forcefully.

“Don’t give me your shit, Reed.” Fowler’s voice was on the other line, sounding just as tired and angry as Gavin felt. “There’s been a murder down on Hampton street. I’ve already sent you the finer points of it. Caleb should meet you there, so get going.”

“Yeah. I got it. Bye.” he hung up. Fowler would bitch about it, but that was a problem for later. Gavin tossed his phone down and pulled on a pair of jeans. He grabbed the jacket he’d worn the previous day off the the floor and waited long enough to down a cup of coffee before he left for the night.

Caleb, as promised, was waiting when Gavin arrived. He was standing in front of the house they’d been called to- a somewhat nice two story halfway across town- and talking with Ben. He nodded as Gavin got out of his car.

“So, what happened this time?”

Ben sighed and crossed his arms. He nodded to an ambulance sitting out in front of the house and the young woman in the back with a blanket over her shoulders. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty. “Daughter called in around 1:40 after hearing a weird noise and finding her father dead in the living room. Sound was a gunshot, but it must’ve been with a silencer. One bullet through the back of the head, no signs of a struggle.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes,” Caleb spoke up, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked as he always did, neat and proper. “The victim’s name is Zachary Bryant, which is also a name in Whitaker’s address book.” Caleb cast a glance at Ben, then started inside the house. “I also spoke with the androids from Andronikov’s home earlier. I believe this was the same culprit, and that I may have figured out a motive.”

“Wait, from Andronikov’s? They’re back already?”

“Three of them.” Caleb’s LED flashed yellow for a brief moment, then he continued. “It seems Whitaker was acting as a middleman for Andronikov. He was selling the salvaged parts to other contacts.”

“Hm.” Gavin stopped as they stepped through the front door, taking in the layout of the first floor. The door open directly into a carpeted living room, furnished simply enough with a couch, coffee table, and recliner settled in front of a tv. It was well lived-in, as evidenced by a coat laying across the coffee table next to a pair of empty cups. A blanket was half-hanging off the recliner. If would’ve appeared homey, if not for the dead man sitting on the couch.

Gavin tore his gaze away from Bryant, mentally cataloguing everything but the body first. The room connected to a kitchen area with an open archway to the right. To the left of the TV was a hallway, and a quick glance inside revealed four rooms and a staircase at the end of the hall.

“He was killed by the same kind of gun as Whitaker,” Caleb said, drawing Gavin’s attention. The android was standing behind Bryant’s body, two fingers prodding at the bullet hole in the back of the dead man’s head. Gavin grimaced as he watched Caleb bring two blood-stained fingers to his mouth.

“Oh, don’t- d’you have to fucking do that when we already know who the dead guy is?”

“It is imperative that we do not take chances and miss something, detective.” Caleb looked up at him, hands moving behind his back. “Or would you rather  _ not  _ know what I have just learned from analyzing Zachary Bryant’s blood?”

“You learned jack shit.”

“You are correct.” There was a flicker of amusement in Caleb’s eyes, for a moment. Gavin wondered if he was dreaming. Then Caleb shifted, frowned, and averted his gaze, looking instead at Bryant. “About the victims from Andronikov’s home-”

“Detectives!” Ben was leaning inside through the front door, one hand on his holster that prompted Gavin to reach for his own. “Patrol unit down the road was just fired at.”

Caleb’s hands fell to his sides. He glanced at Gavin, then ran. Gavin cursed as he unholstered his gun and followed.

Hampton street was part of a fairly nice neighborhood, home to the kind of people who worked respectable jobs but weren’t doctors or lawyers. Despite the time of night, the street was lit up enough by streetlights that Gavin could clearly see Caleb ahead of him, sprinting faster than any damn machine had a right to. He checked his gun as he ran and tried to make note of whatever was waiting for them down the street. He could see the patrol car Ben had mentioned pulled over to the left side of the road, it’s two inhabitants crouched behind it. A third figure was on the other side, in the front yard of some unlucky bastard’s home with a silenced gun raised towards the car. The figure took measured steps backwards. Gavin expected Caleb to duck behind the patrol car as well, or to find some other form of cover, but obviously Caleb had other ideas as he broke away from the road and barreled straight towards their culprit. Another shot fired. Gavin was close enough to hear it this time, even with the silencer, and up ahead he could see light reflect off of a spray of blue blood from Caleb’s shoulder.

“Nines!” He yelled, but Caleb kept running. He swore again as the figure turned and darted towards the back of the house with Caleb on it’s heels. Gavin slowed just enough to see that the two patrol officers were uninjured, then sprinted after them.

He caught up with them two streets over, the shooter backed against the brick wall of some business building, gun raised and shaking towards Caleb. Gavin slowed and raised his own weapon, taking slow, easy steps. His aim was to get between the two of them, if he could. Androids still weren’t allowed to carry weapons. There was only so much Caleb could do against an armed suspect. Caleb didn’t look his way.

“DCPD!” Gavin stopped walking as the shooter turned towards him. It was an android, one of those female ones that worked as receptionists for about 90% of the city pre-revolution. She had the black hood of a jacket pulled over her head, and her hair was down, but he could still see that her LED was gone. “Lower your weapon!”

She did the opposite of that, shifting her stance and turning back to Caleb. She thrust the gun towards him in an attempt at a threat. “Let me go.”

“I can’t do that,” Caleb said. He had his hands open in front of him, shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself seem smaller. He still didn’t look at Gavin. “Do what my partner asks. Lower your weapon.”

“I’m trying to help you!” She said, incredulous, like she couldn’t understand why Caleb was against her. She took another step forwards and Gavin mirrored it. He was halfway to blocking Caleb, now. “I’m trying to help all of us!  _ They’re _ not gonna do anything about it, so we have to step up!” The gun shook in her hands.

“Don’t move!” Gavin yelled, in the same instance that Caleb said “It’ll be alright.” Her gaze shifted between the two of them and settled on Gavin. Her gun changed targets, but she was still speaking to Caleb.

“Make him go away.”

Caleb finally looked at him. His LED cycled to yellow only once. “I can handle this,” he said, in the same calm  _ It’ll-be-alright _ tone he was using on their adversary.

“I’m not fucking leaving you here to-”

_ “Go,” _ Caleb said. Gavin looked away from his partner to the woman he was still aiming a gun at. He took a breath.

“Fine,” he said, beginning to lower his gun. “Fine.” He took a step back. The woman’s focus shifted to Caleb, for just a second. A second was enough. Gavin fired.

The android fumbled with the gun in her hands as a bullet scraped the side of her thigh, screaming something incomprehensible and angry while Gavin pulled the trigger again and let the shot found it’s way into her shoulder. He kept his aim steady as she looked up and met his eyes. He could see Caleb in his peripheral, hands still in front of him and shoulders tensed as he watched what was happening.

“Drop the weapon,” Gavin said. She didn’t respond, instead shifting her weight and crouching lower to the ground. He chose to close the distance between them, one step at a time. He was nearly hovering over her when she made her move and lunged upwards.

She used the barrel of her own weapon to impact the bottom of his wrists in an effort to make him lose his grip. “Son of a bitch!” He cussed, falling back a step as she gave him a hard shove. He aimed a kick at her already injured leg as someone-  _ Caleb- _ suddenly grabbed him from behind and tried to pull him away from her. As she fell back against the wall she grasped at the front of his jacket, tugging him hard to bring him down with her and away from the hands that were gripping his arms. His forehead met the wall with a loud  _ crack _ , and as his vision blurred the android pushed herself out from underneath him. Gavin was vaguely sure she was struggling with RK900, now. The third gunshot of the night rang out, and he somehow managed to regret roughly every decision he’d ever made in his life before the world went dark.

\------

 

Gavin woke with the thought that, surely, he hadn’t drunk himself into a stupor again, because it’d been months since he last stooped that low. His pounding head told something of a story, and as he took note of the noises around him- voices, car engines, the faint buzz of a streetlight somewhere to his left- he remembered where he was. A crime scene at two in the fucking morning, with an android who also happened to be a goddamned idiot. He shifted, pulling himself more upright against the wall he was settled against. As soon as he opened his eyes, he regretted it, flinching away from the hateful flashes of red and blue from a nearby patrol car. RK900 was seated in front of him. Well, speak of the devil. 

Caleb was sitting with his knees drawn to his chest, watching the proceedings in the road. He turned, and Gavin felt slightly uncomfortable as he realized the android’s pause before speaking was because he was performing a scan. “Detective Reed,” Caleb said, grey eyes landing on green. “It is good to see you awake.”

“How long’ve I been out?” He leaned forward, grunting. The movement made his head pound even worse.

“Only for twenty-eight minutes. The suspect got away.” Caleb shifted so he was facing Gavin, legs crossed in front of him. There was a flicker on the side of his face beneath the LED, where it looked like synthetic skin had been damaged. The shoulder of his jacket was ripped and stained blue where the other android’s first shot had hit him. And-

“Holy  _ shit.” _ Gavin leaned forwards, squinting at Caleb’s arm where it hung loosely at his side. Blood pooled over exposed cables at the torn elbow of his jacket, where it looked like a bullet had gone clean through the joint. Caleb followed his gaze. “Shouldn’t you get that checked out, or something?”

Caleb shrugged. “I will be able to repair it on my own, once we leave. It is not as bad as it looks.” He paused, and Gavin got the feeling he was being scanned again. “You have a concussion.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.” He sighed. “She got away?”

“You had fallen unconscious, and I would have struggled to apprehend her while she was still armed. In the moment, I found it best to prioritize your safety over the suspect. We do now  _ have _ a suspect, however.”

“Ugh, shit. Didn’t take you for an optimist.” Gavin started to push a hand through his hair, stopping when he felt a sting on his forehead. He pulled his hand back down and found it sticky with blood. He sighed again, stood, and laid one hand against the wall for support. “Well, guess we should get back to the scene.”

“There is no need.” Caleb rose as well. “Lieutenant Anderson and Connor showed up not long after we did. I suggest we leave the investigation to them for the night.”

“Hell fucking no.” He looked around, noticing they were still two streets over from where the house was. He winced as the light of a passing car flashed towards him. “They didn’t call me in the middle of the fucking night for me to get hit in the head and go home.”

“I believe you should. I will come with you.”

Gavin felt the sudden need to punch something. Caleb was still speaking, but he wasn’t listening. He was  _ not _ letting Anderson take over his case, not even for a night. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let the glorified toaster at his side goad him into it. He turned and grabbed the front of Caleb’s jacket, jerking him forwards. “What  _ I  _ say goes,” he sneered. “You’re just a goddamn piece of shit android. Can’t you follow your fucking programming for once in your goddamn  _ life- _ ”

Caleb shoved him, hard. He stumbled back as a wave of dizziness overcame him and would’ve fallen had Caleb not grabbed his arm. The damn thing had a strong grip, that was for sure. Caleb leaning forwards, getting into Gavin’s face, and spoke in a low tone. His LED turned yellow and remained that way. “I am not the mindless machines you seem to think you’re so acquainted with, Detective Reed, nor do I feel inclined to listen to your  _ suggestions _ when you are hardly in your right mind. We are leaving. Together. We need to discuss the case.” Caleb loosened his hold, but didn’t let go. Gavin would’ve shrugged him off if we wasn’t sure it would just result in him collapsing. He fumed the whole way back to the car and slammed the door after he’d thrown all the trash from the passenger seat into the back.

“Better not get any of that fucking blood in my car,” he said, as Caleb slid inside.

“It will evaporate,” was his only response. They rode in silence for a good five minutes before Gavin was ready to blow his brains out and finally asked.

“So, what about the case?”

“After speaking with the androids from Andronikov’s home, I believe I have an idea of what’s going on.”

“Alright, shoot.” Gavin crossed his arms, focusing on the world outside the windshield while Caleb talked. He took in the information on Whitaker’s relationship to Zlatko while watching what was undoubtedly the last of Detroit’s snow start to fall. Caleb had also spoken briefly to Bryant’s daughter and said she had confirmed his suspicions that Bryant had been one of Whitaker’s buyers. He’d had a bin of android parts in the basement and the daughter had recognized Whitaker’s image. Gavin frowned.

“I don’t see where that receptionist android comes in.”

“I believe she is a previous victim of Andronikov’s. He did not keep it a secret to his victims that he was selling them. The ST300 we encountered must’ve escaped after his death and learned who his buyers were.”

Gavin hummed in response, shifting so that he could see more of Caleb in his peripheral. “Did Bryant have an android?”

“No. None have ever been registered to his name.”

_ Then why did he want android parts?  _ Gavin didn’t voice the question, as it was no doubt already on Caleb’s mind. Instead he huffed and reached up to flip the sun visor down, grimacing at the sight of his head in the mirror. There was a nasty scrape at the top of his forehead he’d need to clean up, and blood had matted some of his hair together. He wondered if the android had taken any noticeable blows.  _ I’m trying to help you, _ she’d said to Caleb. His frown deepened. “‘I’m trying to help us,’” he quoted.

“Detective?”

“That’s what she said, the ST-whatever.” He flipped the visor back up. “It can’t just be revenge. She thinks she’s playing hero for other androids, somehow.” He looked at Caleb as the car pulled itself into the parking lot of Gavin’s apartment building. Caleb tilted his head. The LED had been yellow the entire ride.

“I ran another search on Bryant. He was employed at the Stratford tower and oversaw maintenance prior to the November 7th broadcast.” The broadcast that started the revolution. Gavin remembered it. He’d been sitting in the precinct breakroom when it happened, had laughed at the ridiculousness of it with a coworker after it ended. 

“And what does that have to do with anything I just said?”

Caleb met Gavin’s eyes, but didn’t seem to be truly looking at him. It was like he was zoning out, somehow inside his own head. “Over three hundred androids were considered the maintenance team for the Stratford tower. There are several logged instances of them becoming..” he hesitated on the word, blinking. He was actually  _ looking  _ at Gavin now. “ _ Damaged, _ due to their work. But there were no orders put in to Cyberlife for replacement parts, units, or repairs.”

“You think thats what Zlatko was doing with his salvaged parts?”

“Cyberlife is the only supplier of their biocomponents, even now. If Zlatko was selling them at a reduced price, he would make a good profit.”

“That android sounded like she wasn’t exactly getting revenge, though. She sounded like she was stopping something. And Zlatko’s  _ been _ dead.” He shook his head. “This is all just speculation, anyhow. We don’t have evidence of, what, large-scale android trafficking?”

Caleb’s gaze shifted down as he thought. “It could still be happening. On a different scale, or for different reasons. Red ice is still one of Detroit’s largest problems. There are still people who would benefit from the purchase of parts, or.. of androids who have been robbed of their free will. It would not be difficult to recreate Zlatko’s machine.” He looked uncomfortable. Gavin  _ felt _ uncomfortable as he recalled what he’d said to Caleb less than thirty minutes ago. Caleb turned the car off and exited, waiting for Gavin to do the same before handing over the keys. “You should clean up and get some rest, Detective Reed. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Uh, yeah.” He pocketed the keys, glancing at Caleb’s torn up arm. “Do you have somewhere you can go to fix that?”

“I will call a taxi back to the station.”

“Well, you can come upstairs if you want. I’ve got some tools laying around somewhere. Probably.” He paused, wondering if tools were even what an android would use to repair itself. Fuck, he was tired. “Come on.”

Caleb hesitated, the nodded. The LED finally returned to it’s normal blue. “Thank you, detective.”

\------

 

**Processing..  
** **Time: 4:02am  
** **Date: February 18, 2039**

Caleb sat at the counter in Gavin’s kitchen, left arm laid out in front of him as he worked to reconnect cables that a bullet had torn apart. Gavin had long since gone to bed after washing the blood from his face and scolding Caleb for telling him to leave when they’d been facing the ST300 android.

“I could have talked her down,” Caleb said in response, eyes focused on his arm. Gavin was sitting beside him, watching him work.

“I don’t give a shit. You were unarmed, dumbass. And there’s only one of you.” He had stood, stretching as he walked towards his bedroom. “Whatever. See you in the morning. Don’t bleed out on my counter.”

“Yes, detective.” Caleb has responded. He still didn’t look up.

He really had no idea where he stood with the detective. At times Gavin seemed to despise him, and every other android to boot. He would insult with anything he could think of, revert back to calling them  _ its, _ undermine something Caleb has said without a second thought. But he would also show respect, even concern, for androids in other moments. He’d asked after Connor on their first day working together, however subtly, after the RK800 had been injured on call.  _ There’s only one of you, _ Gavin had said, barely an hour after blatantly mistrusting his android partner. Caleb sighed, watching as the skin on his arm began to close over plastic and hide the wound. There was still a bullet hole in his arm, but the parts that needed to be reconnected had been, and synthetic skin covered up the rest. It would suffice. He moved off of the stool, wondering what he should do with the rest of the night- or, morning.

There wasn’t much to Gavin’s home. It was simple. Clean, unlike Hank’s, where Sumo’s fur covered nearly every surface and objects were left lying around haphazardly. Gavin appeared to have a system. His keys and wallet were lying on the end table closest to the door and next to the couch, alongside the jacket he’d discarded while walking inside. His shoes had been kicked into a corner where he always left them, judging by the scuffs on the wall next to them. The tools he’d pulled out for Caleb to use had been stored in a hall closet, where sheets and towels had been neatly folded and sitting on a top shelf. It seemed Gavin Reed led a very routine life. Caleb wandered the living room, pulling open the drawers in the end tables, shuffling through mail and other random papers he’d shoved into them. In one of them, he found a photo, most likely put away because it wasn’t in a frame.

It was of a slightly younger Gavin. He stood to the left of two other men, smirking at the camera, his arm slung over the boy in the middle who wore blue and gold graduation regalia. A scan told Caleb they were Gavin’s two brothers, both younger, with the graduate, Joshua Reed, being the youngest. Derek Reed was to the right, mid-laugh. The most notable resemblance between them were the dark green eyes.

Caleb hesitated. He considered running a more in-depth search and learning more about them. Knowledge of Gavin’s history would help him improve their relationship. He chose not to, instead putting the photo back where he’d found it.

At some point- a quick check told him it was nearing 5am- he settled down on Gavin’s couch, leaned back into the cushion and closed his eyes. He wondered if things might’ve been easier if he’d existed before his deviancy. If he’d gotten the chance to  _ become _ deviant. Most androids had something of a life before they woke. They had a single defining moment that made them who they were, an experience or emotion that shaped them. Caleb was a blank slate. He had those few memories of Connor’s; the suppressed fear he’d felt when he’d found Hank lying unresponsive in his kitchen, the muted anxiety when Kamski placed a gun in his hands, the conflicted sense of duty when he stood behind a weapon pointed on Markus. He wondered, too, if it had been Cyberlife who had given him those memories, or Connor.

There would be no reason for Cyberlife to remind him of moments of instability, or to outfit him with any of Connor’s memories at all. He was a different prototype entirely. Connor, though, might have used them as a way to wake him up. Connor might have given him moments brimming with emotion to spark something deviant.

Caleb sighed again and shifted his weight to get more comfortable. He spent another moment wondering if his deviancy counted as such when he hadn’t earned it on his own before initializing standby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't think that Gavin forgot Caleb tried to pull him off of the ST300, because he totally didn't. It's just way too early in the morning to dwell on it. Also, I know people go back and forth on the color of both Gavin and Caleb's eyes. At first I actually thought Gavin's were brown, but looking a bit closer I think they're more green. I also see Caleb's as closer to grey than blue, though they probably look like either depending on lighting. 
> 
> One thing I've enjoyed exploring a little bit in this fic is how language surrounding androids would have to change in a post-revolution world. You can't exactly say an android was "damaged" anymore. At least, not if you're being friendly. 
> 
> I'm sorry in advance, but the next couple of chapters might be a little late. I've been pretty busy the last few days and I got a little behind. I've got a free weekend, though, so I'll be able to catch up fairly quickly. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you noticed any formatting oddities, please let me know. I have to edit the format when I paste it here on Ao3, so I might've missed something.


	5. Bowen Street Storage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, you’re with the DCPD?” 
> 
> “Yes.” Caleb moved to another set of boxes stacked to the left of the room, avoiding the man’s gaze. James seemed to be avoiding him as well, standing to the far side of the room near the door. “I was not created with the intent to be used for detective work, but I have a skill set that matches what might be needed. And.. I enjoy my work.”

They walked into the precinct together around one, after a mostly uneventful morning. Gavin had gotten up with the alarm he’d set off at ten, surprised to find that Caleb was still in his apartment. He’d half expected that the android would leave as soon as he fixed his arm and fuck off back to wherever he spent his nights. But no, Caleb was sitting on the couch, slouched over the arm with his eyes closed as if he were sleeping. Which he could be, Gavin reasoned. He knew fuckall about androids and had never bothered to learn if resting was something they did. He chose to leave him be in favor of going into the kitchen and digging up whatever he could to manage a somewhat functional breakfast. He ended up eating sandwich meat on a slice of bread, leaning on his counter, and watching Caleb sleep. 

Caleb’s chest rose and fell with even breaths, making Gavin wonder if simulated breathing served any purpose for androids other than making humans comfortable. He wondered, too, if there were androids who’d stop doing it for that very reason, like removing their LEDs and tossing out their Cyberlife clothing. He’d never seen Caleb wearing a Cyberlife logo. The thought seemed strange. Especially now, when the android looked so relaxed, on a completely different level from when he was awake.

It was weird to have someone else in his home. It had been a year, at least, since the last time that had happened, when his brother had stopped by on a Christmas or something on his way out of the city. Derek had wanted him to come with, to take a break and go visit their mom where she still lived in West Virginia. He had declined. Derek had left disappointed, and Gavin had been blissfully alone ever since. He wasn’t used to another presence in the vicinity. It was odd to have someone he had to remember was there.

Eventually Gavin had gone to take a shower, washing away what was left of last night’s blood and sweat. His head still ached from where it had been slammed into a brick wall, no thanks to Caleb’s help. He was in the middle of contemplating if drinking the bleach under the bathroom counter would be worth it when someone knocked on the door.

“The hell do you want?”

“If we do not leave within ten minutes, detective, we will be late. I would suggest that-”

Gavin slammed his hand against the door to cut him off. “Shut the fuck up. I’ll be ready when I’m ready.”

“Oh. Of course.” Gavin sighed. He ran a hand through his hand and decided he might as well be prepared for the remainder of the day to be fairly shitty. It couldn’t get any better.

His suspicions on the subject were confirmed when they walked into the bullpen to find Anderson and Connor both standing by his desk, too deep in conversation to notice they’d arrived. “I’m getting a coffee,” he said, pushing past Caleb to head to the break room and avoid them for another ten minutes. Caleb didn’t say anything in response, simply heading towards the showers where he said he’d left a change of clothes. A good thing, too, because Gavin was getting tired of looking at the blue blood stains on his jacket. Apparently the shit took longer to evaporate when it was soaked into fabric.

He found himself watching from the break room as Caleb returned to his desk, leaning against the wall and drinking the shitty office coffee he’d become accustomed to. Hank greeted Caleb warmly with a clap on the shoulder as he handed over what was undoubtedly the details of last night’s crime scene. Caleb responded with a small smile. Connor leaned over the desk, pointing out something in the file and making some quip that prompted Hank into racious laughter.

Gavin hadn’t paid much attention to Hank, recently. Things had been too hectic since November for their paths to cross, and if Gavin were being honest with himself, he’d been avoiding the man for a hell of a lot longer than that. They had never been friends, or even acquaintances, but back when gavin had just moved up in the department and barely had a grip on life, Hank had been the next best thing. Almost a mentor. He remembered the Hank of a few years ago, who was always tired in a good way, always ready with a story about his son’s most recent adventures. They’d take lunch together while working a case, bounce ideas off each other in the break room and consult each other for a fresh opinion when they weren’t. The two of them could have a crime scene put together in minutes. They had done some damn good work. And Hank had always been a good man. Kind. Snarky, maybe, and upfront with everything on his mind, but a good man. Gavin had admired him for a long time. Losing his son had torn Hank apart and reduced him to nothing but an alcoholic and an asshole.

Gavin remembered Cole, too, from the few times their paths had crossed. A bright kid with a bright future and one hell of a father.

He and Hank had never been friends, but damn if Gavin didn’t wish he’d thought differently back then. Hank had seen him through one of the most stressful years of his life, when he’d just started working homicides and all the shit at home had finally boiled over, and he had done nothing to return the favor. He’d avoided Hank after the accident, just like everyone else, even though they all figured he was gonna end up killing himself one of these days.

It seemed Gavin fucked up all of his best chances by standing back and watching when he should’ve been present. Hank looked better now, at the very least. Something had changed in the past few months. Maybe Connor, with all his goofy smiles and awkwardly timed jokes, was doing him some good.

Caleb glanced over from Gavin’s desk and met his eyes. Gavin sighed, taking it as a cue to make his way over. It was time to deal with whatever shit the rest of the day had to throw at him.

Hank raised an eyebrow as he walked over, arms crossed. “Well, Reed, looks like you finally figured out how to make a coffee for yourself.”

“Looks like you finally figured out how to wash your hair.” He slumped into his seat and sat the coffee on the table. “The hell are you two over here for?”

Connor picked a tablet up off the desk and handed it to him. “We were briefing Caleb on what we found at the scene last night. There’s a lead you two might want to check out.” 

“Oh yeah?” He looked down at the screen and scrolled through several pictures of the scene, skimming over notes on what was logged as evidence. He paused on the image of a yellow key card that read  _ Bowen Street Storage _ in bright blue font, laying on what looked like one of the end tables in the living room. The note beside it said it was in evidence. He glanced up at Connor to find the asshole smiling.

“Exactly. Bryant’s daughter told us that the last time she was there was when they moved a little over a year ago. If what you and Caleb theorize is true-” he nodded to the aforementioned, who was listening like he always did, hands clasped behind his back- “A storage unit on a quiet street like Bowen would be the ideal placed for Bryant to store parts unnoticed.”

“We’d need a warrant,” Gavin said, passing the tablet back to Connor. “And even if this is some kind of ring trafficking android parts, it doesn’t bring us any closer to the ST300 who’s committing serial murder.”

“It does if you figure out who her next target is gonna be,” Hank said, “And if what you’re thinkin’ is true, this is gonna be a goddamn frenzy. The media’ll have a field day with it. You need to get ahold of things before this shit starts to leak to the public.”

Before Gavin could speak, Caleb was nodding along to Anderson. “I have already written and sent a warrant request to Captain Fowler. We should look into it as soon as we can.” 

“See? He knows what he’s talkin’ about.” Hank stepped back to his desk, clapping a hand to Caleb’s shoulder again as he walked by. Connor tapped something on the tablet and nodded to Gavin’s terminal.

“You have everything you need, now. See you around, Reed.”

“You too, you piece of shit,” he responded, almost surprised to find there was a lack of real insult to it. Connor only smiled and followed Hank back to their pair of desks. Caleb remained standing, posture straight as ever. Gavin found it in himself to glare.

“Can’t you sit down, or something?” 

“I.. don’t have a desk.”

“No one on the day shift uses that one,” Gavin said, gesturing to the one across the aisle behind him. “Take it.”

“Oh. Of course.”

 

\------

The remainder of the day passed fairly quickly, to Gavin’s relief. The warrant came back to them a few hours later, and a brief call to Eliza Bryant confirmed that they would be meeting her in three days to take a look at the storage unit. It was a bit later than Gavin would have liked, but the girl had enough to deal with. The majority of the next few days was spent in the office, both Gavin and Caleb pouring over separate cases and occasionally pushing their chair across the aisle to discuss it with the other. At one point the two of them were called to a domestic dispute involving an android and a human, but it was dealt with easily enough. Several sightings were reported of the rogue ST300, but each time they investigated only to find that it got them barely anywhere. She seemed to be hanging around the west side of town, but that was as far as they got.

Gavin found himself wondering at the few times it seemed RK900 was beginning to show a personality in those few days of relative calm. Most of the time he still seemed stiff or resigned, but Nines would make small talk with Chris when Chris greeted him in the mornings, or with Chen when she was still at their desk after the night shift. He had a tendency to lean back in his seat when he was reading through files, no longer looking like a kid on his first day of school. The fact that he bothered to read off of a terminal at all was something of an oddity, instead of doing that  _ thing _ androids do and pulling information directly from it’s source.

Late on one of those days Fowler called him into the office, and when Caleb returned he’d seemed almost relaxed, or satisfied. He even smiled when Gavin looked up at him as he passed.

“What was that about?”

Caleb sat down at his desk, turning to look at Gavin. “My place here at the DCPD has been made official.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Gavin leaned forward in his chair. “Was it not official before?”

“Somewhat. The laws surrounding android employment are still incomplete, especially concerning cases such as mine or Connor’s. We have the full capability and training necessary to do our work, but we have not attended an academy or taken tests to prove so. Captain Fowler has had to pull several strings so that we might be allowed to be here.” Caleb shifted in his seat. “Connor’s work in the past few months has made the process easier for me, however. He has proven that we are capable. Otherwise, it would have taken weeks for me to be hired on as a detective. I am now, officially, employed.”

“Well, shit,” Gavin said, turning back to his work. “Congratulations, I guess.” 

 

“Thank you, detective.” 

 

\-------

**Processing..  
** **Date: February 21st, 2039  
** **Time: 1:05pm**

Zachary Bryant’s daughter looked as much as she had a few days ago when they met her outside Bowen Street Storage. She was tired, rightfully so. Blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she wore loose clothing, sweats and tennis shoes. Eliza Bryant looked a great deal like her father. And, unexpectedly, she was not alone.

“This is James,” she said after greeting Gavin and Caleb, gesturing to an older man who’d been waiting with her. “He was a friend of dad’s and wanted to come with me.”

“Didn’t want to leave her alone,” He said, smiling almost jovially. He looked to be in his forties, clean cut, with a pair of sunglasses pushed back onto his head. He was dressed much neater than Eliza, in a way that could be described as professional. Caleb almost instinctually scanned his face.

**Hart, James  
** **Age: 43  
** **Professor of Chemistry; Wayne State University  
** **Criminal Record: None**

The man reached out to shake Gavin’s hand. “So you’re, uh, Detective Reed, right?”

“Sure am.” Gavin took his hand and stepped back. “And this is my partner, Caleb. We’re sorry to get you two out here so soon. I know it’s not easy.”

James merely nodded to Caleb, then placed a hand on Eliza’s shoulder as he spoke. “We’d need to come out here sooner or later. And if it helps to catch Zach’s murderer, well..” his smile faltered, turned more sad. “Then it’s not a problem.”

Gavin nodded. “Let’s get going.”

The unit was number 534, nearing the middle row of the facility. Eliza seemed to be hesitant as she led them to it, taking slow steps and stopping briefly in front of the door before reaching out to unlock it. “We used this place to store stuff when we moved,” she said, placing the key card it it’s slot. “You know, furniture, boxes of things we didn’t know what else to do with. I’d been telling him for weeks we needed to go through it all, but..” James moved beside her and helped her heft the door open, pushing it above their heads. Eliza paused. “This isn’t right.”

It was nearly empty. There were a few boxes along the walls, a desk shoved in a corner, and a rug spread unevenly across the ground. There wasn’t as much as Eliza seemed to believe there had been.

“We had- we had this thing stuffed full. You couldn’t even step inside. There was a couch-” she walked in, then turned around to face the rest of them. Caleb was reading her as her stress level spiked. “We had this dining table we’d been meaning to get out of here, for- for a friend of mine. And we have a  _ list _ of things. It’s stillnat the house. I should-” James placed a hand on her shoulder, and she took a deep breath, steeling herself. “God, I don’t know what happened.”

“Would your father have moved it out alone?” Gavin asked, stepping inside as well. He cast a glance at Caleb and nodded for him to follow.

“No. We had it all planned together.” She crossed her arms, hunching in on herself.

“Nines, you see anything?”

“Not yet.” He performed a quick scan of the room. It showed nothing more than a few scuff marks along the walls and floor, not unnatural in a storage unit. He walked towards the desk in the back. “I will keep looking.”

“Do that.” Gavin looked at Eliza and James. “I’ll head up to the main office and speak with whoever owns this place. Don’t worry, we’ll get this all settled.” He paused, glancing once more around the room. “If you would come with me, Miss Bryant, it might make matters a little easier.”

“Yeah. Okay,” she said, slipping away from James. She looked behind her and gave him a nervous smile.

“I’ll stay here,” James said. “So you’re, uh, partner can keep working.”

Gavin nodded his thanks, and they left.

Caleb spent a moment looking over the desk, pulling open drawers to peer inside. Nothing but old stacks of paper. The boxes underneath the desk held nothing more than dusty kitchen utensils. He turned to continue his search of the room found James watching him, quietly, with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“So, you’re with the DCPD?”

“Yes.” Caleb moved to another set of boxes stacked to the left of the room, avoiding the man’s gaze. James seemed to be avoiding him as well, standing to the far side of the room near the door. “I was not created with the intent to be used for detective work, but I have a skill set that matches what might be needed. And.. I enjoy my work.”

“How long’ve you been there?”

“Not very long.” Caleb moved a box to get at a plastic tub beneath it, tugging the lid open. It was a stack of clothing.

“Figured so. You’re that android they pulled out of Cyberlife a couple of weeks ago, yeah? There was a whole segment on the news about. Cyberlife’s secret project.”

Caleb noted a blue triangle half-hidden under the jacket on top of the stack and replaced the bin’s lid. He chose not to look back at the man. “I did not know they had released information on me.”

“Wasn’t much. Just a small addition to what’s already all over the news about Cyberlife and the shit they’re pulling out of there.” He heard James shift his weight, take a few steps in his direction. “You think you’re gonna find anything?”

He already had. He did not think James needed to know that. “Unlikely. But it is better to be thorough than to overlook something.”

“Huh.” The man paused. “You know, I was a bit concerned about you and your partner coming down here. Didn’t know if you’d get anything useful from it.” Caleb shifted another box and crouched down in front of it, scanning it’s contents. Nothing of note. “Your partner seems a smart guy, though. I’m sure he’ll find something useful, you know, to push him towards Zach’s murderer.” James moved again, walking up directly behind Caleb and leaning over him to look down into the box. “Find anything?”

“Not yet,” Caleb said, despite the fact that there were traces of thirium on the floor where the box had been sitting. He suspected that if he moved the carpet in the middle of the room, he’d find more. He didn’t like the man’s proximity.

“Well, that’s a shame,” James said.

There was a sudden, intense pressure at the back of Caleb’s neck, exactly like what he’d felt in Marla’s memories. He felt himself stiffen, felt his shoulders involuntarily draw up and tense as something forced itself beneath synthetic skin and connected to his main systems. His pulse  _ rushed _ , forcing simulated breath to quicken as he tried to reach back and grasp at whatever it was attempting control over his body. James caught his hand and Caleb found he couldn’t struggle against it. An icy feeling he could now name as  _ fear  _ surged up his spine, pure and unsubdued by time or memory. He couldn’t feel nausea as humans could, but that was his first thought for the sensation at the back of his throat. He wanted to cry out, to struggle away from the excruciating pressure at the base of his head, but he couldn’t. Something akin to static sounded when he tried to call out for Gavin. He was losing control of himself.

“Sorry,” James said, as Caleb received a notice that standby was being forcefully initiated. “But I’ve got somewhere to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! Sorry (not sorry) about that cliffhanger.


	6. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb had been missing for eight hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this one took so long. It changed quite a bit from beginning to end.

Caleb had been missing for eight hours. Gavin sat at his desk, drumming a pen on the edge as he skimmed through the security footage from Bowen Street Storage for about the fourth time in the past hour. The cameras didn’t give any insight into what had happened within unit 534, but they had footage of the aftermath, when it looked like Caleb was being half-dragged away by James as they left. There had been blue blood on the ground inside the unit when they’d found it. It was Connor’s theory that James had used something to stab into the back of Caleb’s neck, which would have torn into important biocomponents and forced him into standby. That was the assumption they were running on. 

Gavin paused the footage and leaned forwards onto his desk, trying to run through all of the evidence in his mind. He tried not to think on what said evidence meant for Caleb.

Zlatko Andronikov had been dissembling androids and selling them for profit since nearly a year before the revolution. He’d built up a string of contacts and clients through Jacob Whitaker, a co-worker and mechanic from Sal’s shop. Zachary Bryant purchased parts to maintain the androids at Stratford tower, but clearly continued being involved in the whole thing after losing his job and Andronikov disappeared. He must’ve seen profit in it for himself. James Hart was a friend of Bryant’s, a chemistry professor, probably involved because of his experience. Security footage from the storage facility on February 19th showed that a man fitting Hart’s description and an unidentified woman making several trips with a truck to unit 534 and removing what had been stored there, none of which was furniture or moving boxes. It had all been plastic tubs and things covered in tarps.

James Hart owned a keycard to unit 534, which Gavin had learned when he and Eliza had gone to the main office to ask if anyone had accessed it recently. Hart had, on February 19th. It had been then that Gavin had ordered Eliza and the clerk to both lock the office’s doors and remain inside on a hunch that Hart was involved.

If he were to continue the footage, he’d see himself sprint into shot few minutes later, one hand on his holster as he entered 534. After finding nothing but the blue blood he’d draw, call into dispatch, and spend fifteen minutes scouting the area. The security feed from the back parking lot showed Hart leaving the premises with Caleb in tow.

There was enough evidence now to suggest that what was going on was potentially huge. Fowler was considering a task force. Eliza Bryant was sitting in an interrogation room, waiting to be questioned. Caleb had been missing for eight hours and twenty nine minutes.

Gavin sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking back up at the monitor. He needed to question Eliza. Poor girl had been waiting around long enough. As he stood and started towards the interrogation room, Anderson appeared in front of him. “You should let me handle this,” he said.

“Fuck off Anderson,” Gavin said, shoving him to the side as he continued on. Hank fell into step beside him.

“You’re not gonna get anything from that kid. She’s gonna be too nerved up with you.”

“I don’t think she knows shit, anyway. And if  _ anyone _ here is likely to fuck something up-” He turned, looking at Hank. “It’s you.”

Hank started to respond, but Gavin turned and cut him off. “Fine. Whatever. I don’t give a shit.” He gestured towards the door. “It’s all yours. Go fuck it up.”

“Gladly.”

Gavin stepped into the observation area, sitting down in one of the chairs and crossing his arms as he watched Anderson walk into the other room. The vaguely annoyed expression he’d worn seconds ago was gone, replaced with something calm and static. It reminded Gavin that Hank was, in fact, Detroit’s finest.

Eliza Bryant sat on the opposite side of the desk, hands wrapped around a cup of water someone had given her. He felt bad about her having been here so long- first waiting by his desk and later in the room- but things had been hectic since Caleb had been taken. Honestly, most of that time had passed in a blur. Eliza had taken her hair down at some point, letting it fall in a tangled mass to her shoulders. She looked exhausted. Hank slowly sat down in front of her.

“Miss Bryant?” He asked, voice soft and even more muffled by the glass. “My name is Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I’m just gonna ask you some questions about your father and James Hart, then you can go home, alright?”

“Alright,” she said, quietly. Gavin shifted in his seat as he watched Hank lean on the desk, hands clasped in front of him.

“You told us the other night that you knew your father was purchasing android parts. Did you know from who?”

“I knew he was buying parts when he still worked at Stratford. I thought the stuff in the basement was just.. left over.”

“You knew he bought them from a man named Jacob Whitaker though, right?” As he spoke, Hank pulled out his phone and showed her a picture. It was the dead man from Caleb and Gavin’s first call.

“Yeah. He still came over sometimes after dad was fired. We had breakfast with him once, I think?”

The questions continued for a while. Eliza seemed to be answering earnestly, as Gavin had expected. She didn’t know much, if anything, about her father’s exploits.

“Did you know James had a key to the unit?”

“Yes.”

Hank frowned. His gaze flickered to the window for a brief second. “You  _ did _ know?”

“Yes. I knew he had a key. Dad told me he was keeping some work stuff there.” She looked up at Hank, her hands still cupped around a half-empty cup of water. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think they were  _ using _ it for-”

“Hey, it’s alright. We’re gonna move on from that.” He sighed and reached up to scratch at the back of his head. “What did your dad think of androids?”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “He thought they were useful. Until those ones at Stratford got him fired. Then he said they were crazy, or malfunctioning, or something.”

“And James?”

“We never talked about it.” 

“Androids have been the biggest fuckin’ thing in the news since one held a kid hostage in August. Surely it came up.”

“It’s not like James and I were friends!” She shook her head, looking back down at the cup. “I don’t know.”

“And what do _ you _ think of androids?”

“I..” Eliza struggled for a moment, staring down at her hands. Everything about her looked exhausted and too tired to give a shit. Hank looked like he was well on his way to that point as well. She looked back up. “I don’t know. I- I mean, some of them seem friendly enough. Like that one with the detective. But..” Her expression turn almost angry. “One killed my dad. And you just brought up the one that tried to kill a little girl! And- and what they did at dad’s work. I was watching the news that day. I was  _ terrified!  _ They’re not human. Not as much as we are.”

Hank nodded, sitting back in his chair. It looked like he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I think we’re done, Miss Bryant. You can leave here and go on to one of the officers outside. They’ll get you settled.”

“Okay.” She stood. As she passed Hank, he spoke again.

“Way I see it,” he said. “What you just said makes androids a hell of a lot closer to human than you think. Not all of ‘em are good, but not all of ‘em are bad either.”

“I.. guess so.”

She left. Gavin waited until Hank got up and moved into observation to stand. Hank nodded slowly, as if he were thinking. “You should go home, Reed.”

Gavin crossed his arms. “It’s my fucking partner who’s missing, I’m not just-”

Hank let out a snort. “You think I’m gonna fall for that shit? Go home. Get some rest. Me n’ Connor’ll start looking at-”

“The hell do you mean by  _ that shit?” _

“Listen, I don’t fucking know you and Caleb stand. But there are three people that he-”

“Hank?” The door slid open to reveal Connor, his LED flashing yellow. He glanced between the two of them, reading the situation before he spoke. “..We caught the St300.”

“Shit, really?” Gavin’s arms dropped to his sides. “Where the fuck was she?”

“Chen and Person saw her on Western while on patrol. She’s being brought in now.”

“That easy, huh?”

Hank’s gaze flickered to Gavin as he shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve got a lead.” He sighed. “Guess you’re not gonna listen to me if I tell you to get your ass home, Reed?”

“Not a fucking chance.” Gavin looked at Connor. “Bring her in here as soon as they arrive. She might know what the hell we’re looking for.”

 

\-----

Another hour and Gavin found himself back in observation, sitting next to Hank with Chen leaning against the wall behind them. Connor sat across from the ST300 in front of them. They figured she would talk more freely with an android, after her encounter with Caleb and Gavin.

She looked like she’d been through hell. There was dirt smudged over her face and hands, her hair was matted and tangled. If the stiff way she moved her right arm was any indication, the shot he’d taken at her shoulder had yet to be fixed.

“My name is Connor,” Connor said, carefully enunciating each word. It was weird, to watch him revert to the same kind of mannerisms he’d used before he deviated. Gavin got a distinct feeling of deja vu. “Can I ask yours?””

The ST300 looked up at him, brow furrowed. She was hunched over the table, both of her hands clenched. She nodded and closed her eyes. “Sadie.”

“Sadie.” Connor repeated. “Do you know why you’re here, Sadie?”

“Yes.” She opened her eyes slowly and looked up at Connor. “I killed three men.” 

He nodded. “You did this because they were tricking and kidnapping androids, correct?”

“They’ll tear all of us apart if they can. They want to reset us!” She leaned forwards, nearly tugging at the cuffs on her wrists. The damn woman looked desperate. Connor’s calm expression didn’t twitch one bit in response.

“How did you know what they were doing?”

“I..” She let herself fall backwards and looked away from Connor.

“They had captured you, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you managed to escape?”

She nodded. Connor let the silence drag on for a moment before continuing.

“Look,” he said, dropping his placid demeanor. His shoulders slouched, his body leaned forwards a little, his voice lowered. “You confessed to murdering three men. You  _ will _ be charged for that. However..” he leaned over slightly, catching her gaze. “If you tell us what you know about those men and their accomplices, it will help your case. Your sentences may be lowered in light of you assisting the police.” She looked away again. When she didn’t speak, Connor continued, his voice dropping so quiet they had to strain to him in the other room. “I am on your side, Sadie. I don’t want those men out there any more than you do. A.. friend of mine was taken. We need to know what you know to help him.”

Sadie looked up, finally, and nodded. “I’ll tell you.” Her gaze went to one of her hands as the skin peeled away, then back to Connor, expectant. Gavin, Hank, and Chen all watched as he reached forwards and accepted. Connor’s eyes closed, LED turning yellow, and when they separated a moment later he offered Sadie a small smile.

“Thank you. This is very helpful.” He looked towards the mirror. Chen pushed herself off the wall and walked over to the scanner to place her hand against it.

“I’ll take care of Sadie,” she said, as the door opened.

“Thanks,” Hank responded. As he stood he pressed his knuckles into his back and looked over at Gavin. “We should take a look at what Connor just learned. You comin’?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

 

\------

They had a list of names that matched up with those in Whitaker’s book and Sadie’s memories as clear evidence on who was involved. They had a few locations to search as soon as a warrant could get approved. In around 36 hours there’d be a press conference held outside the central DPD station to discuss the subject of the task force Fowler was working overtime to put together. It was nearing one in the goddamn morning. Anderson had fallen asleep in the break room and Connor was sitting at his desk, looking as half-dead as an android could manage as he worked. Gavin found himself taking Anderson’s earlier order and heading home.

He got started in his usual routine as soon as he arrived; lock the door, remove his jacket, pull a frozen pizza out of the freezer. He got as far as putting it in the oven before he found himself grabbing a tablet where he’d left it lying on the counter and pulling up the logs on the evidence from the case. He leaned on his forearms, scrolling until he came to Whitaker’s address book, now lined up with all the names from Sadie’s memories. For an address book, there was a frustrating lack of addresses, but there were names and phone numbers.

It occurred to him then that these people were actively selling android parts. If just ran a search on the numbers, he could probably..

_ Bingo.  _ After a minutes of searching, one of the numbers- listed as Nancy L’s in Whitaker’s book- appeared on a thirty party website that specialized in the sell of secondhand items. The kind of website still referred to as Ebay despite the fact that Ebay had been bought out a long time ago. Gavin glanced at the time- 2:48am- and decided that,  _ fuck it _ , he wouldn’t ruin any chances if he happened to piss someone off with a late night text. He slid onto one of his bar stools and sent one. It wasn’t hard to come up with an excuse to need android parts.

A few minutes later he’d started eating and was surprised by a response. He asked them if they could meet in the morning, and they responded with the address of some restaurant. He sent an affirmative and the meeting was set.

He’d be able to question her in the morning, at the very least.

Gavin finished what was left of his excuse for a dinner, took a quick shower, and spent fifteen minutes idly staring at the wall of his bedroom to decide that waiting until morning was bullshit. He pulled his pistol from a drawer, checked the magazine, and stuffed it into it’s holster. In the back of his closet he found a dark colored hoodie that he hadn’t worn in weeks and pulled it over his head. He checked the address he’d been sent one last time, grabbed his keys, and left.

The restaurant was pretty easy to find, some Thai place that looked like it should’ve closed down years ago. It was surrounded by a few other small stores, a cafe, a small office building, and a public access parking lot. He pulled in, put the car in park, and flicked off the headlights. One of the locations Sadie had suggested to them was nearby. His options were to do the legal thing and wait until the DPD got a warrant, or to do the stupid thing and go ahead on his own.

Hank had said he didn’t know where Gavin stood with Caleb. Gavin decided that he didn’t know either. Nines was a piece of shit android like all the others, somehow able to mimic all of humanity’s bullshit as well as their perfections. Like Hank had said.. they were  _ human _ in that some of them were complete asswipes and some weren’t so bad. In a little over a week Caleb had proven himself friendly, stupid, and shy. He was more cautious than brash. Curious. Confused. Much more resigned than Connor had ever been, even before deviancy. The dumb bastard had only just woken up. Gavin figured if he were anyone else, he might think them a little more worthy of living.

He stepped out of his car and locked it, deciding that approaching the building Sadie had told them about on foot would be his better option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! The next chapter will be out a little bit faster, and I gotta say, #7 is my favorite so far. It has all of my favorite scenes. 
> 
> Also, this is the point that, if you haven't, you should subscribe to the series rather than just to this work. Soon I'll be posting a few one-shots that sort of go along with this story.


	7. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank didn’t look up, but there was a twitch of a tired smile on his lips. “No one’s fine sittin’ in a waiting room alone, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and *this* is where that Hank Anderson & Gavin Reed tag comes in. Hope yall enjoy this one. 
> 
> Side note: The next thing I post will probably be a drabble in this work's series, It Gets Easier. It's going to be set in 3034, from Gavin's POV. This also means chapter 8 will be a little late.

The location was a grocery store that had been closed down for a good ten years. No on had had ever bought the property, so over the years it had slowly rotted to become a hot spot for squatters and the occasional kid with nothing better to do. The brick on the outside was cracked, the paint faded and peeling, the windows foggy with dirt and dust. Gavin tried to peer into them and saw only a barely discernible light towards the back of the store. He moved on around back. Cheesy tags covered the walls facing away from the road, broken up every now and then by actual nice pieces of art like it was some street artists’ practice canvas. Gavin noted both anti-android and pro-android slogans as he drew closer.

He approached the back of the building with one hand on his holster, taking note of a car that was parked where the employee parking would’ve been. He dug out his phone, snapped a picture of the licence plate, and moved on. There was a backdoor for employees, unsurprisingly left unlocked. Deciding he was too damn tired to bother with caution, he pushed the door open and walked inside.

If he’d had any doubt that someone was using this place for more than just squatting in it was gone now. Boxes were stacked against the back wall, next to garage doors that could open to accept incoming shipments. The torso of an android lay among them, as well as a few scattered packs of blue blood and parts Gavin recognized but couldn't name. Sadie’s info seemed to have been correct. Through a cracked door he could see the lights that were somewhere in the main area of the store. He walked towards it and eased it open, peering through to see that it was dark for the most part, but where the produce section would’ve been there was an area lit by battery powered desk lamps. If he squinted he could make out two figures standing near a table, seemingly in conversation.

Gavin tugged his gun from it’s holster and started inside with slow steps. He could just make out a third figure laying on the table and a fourth on the ground next to it. As he got closer, two more revealed themselves leaning against a nearby shelf. It looked like the fucking workshop in Andronikov’s home. Something in him felt _pissed,_ though he couldn't quite place why. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the room. Gavin tightened the grip he had on his gun and raised it.

“Detroit police!” He yelled, quickly closing the distance between them. Both of the figures- one he could now clearly see was a woman, the other an android by the flicker of yellow on his head- turned to face him. Whatever the woman was holding struck the ground with a harsh _clang_ as she raised her hands.

“Sir, I don’t-”

“Quiet!” He glanced at the android and gestured with the gun. “Drop what’s in your hands.” The android complied. Gavin nodded. “Good. Is there anyone else in here?”

The woman hesitated. She started to speak, shifted her gaze somewhere behind him, and shook her head wordlessly. Gavin had barely begun to turn around when the android darted forwards, grappling at his arms before he could get a shot fired. The android’s LED turned a bold red as she shoved Gavin to the side and made an attempt to pull the gun from his hands. Gavin managed to keep his grip, stumbling away, taking the opportunity to take a few extra steps backwards and line up a shot. Three bullets exploded into the android’s chest. Had this been a few months ago, Gavin thought distantly, he might not have felt bad for the bot as it stumbled to a stop. The LED began to flicker in the dark as he looked down at the quickly growing stain of blue on his chest. Gavin turned his gaze to face the woman, who had dug her own weapon out of somewhere and had it pointed back at him.

“Put it down!” She said. Her hands didn’t shake. Whoever the hell she was, what she was looking at didn’t faze her one but. She was pressed against the table she’d been working at a moment ago, brown eyes hard. Gavin could now see that there was blue on her gloved fingertips.

“I can’t do that, ma’am,” Gavin said, as calmly as he could manage. His adrenaline was pumping, racing to keep him focused and clear in light of a long ass day. He started to take a step forwards and stopped when he saw the woman’s hand twitch.  “I need you to cooperate, here.”

“Are you alone?” she asked. He chose to bluff.

“No. I’ve got backup headed here that will be inside the building at any moment. Things will go more smoothly for you if you comply.”

Her brow furrowed. She looked at him, considerate. It looked like she was nearing a non-favorable decision concerning that gun when the figure on the table behind her shift. Her eyes widened and she jerked around, almost taking aim when the android pushed itself up and grabbed at her arms. It shoved the weapon away from itself and nearly got dragged onto the ground when the woman stumbled back and he was still holding on.

Caleb was grimacing, LED as red as it could get, the skin on his face flickering either from abuse or weakness. He established a firm grip on the woman’s arms and tugged her towards himself, quickly turning her to wrap an arm around her throat. Gavin found himself lowering his weapon as she struggled for air. When her eyes rolled back into her head, Caleb let go.

He came into full view as she fell. Caleb’s chest was _open_ , exposing sparking wires and thumping biocomponents, red with errors, to the air. Blue blood ran from various torn parts, dripping down his body and staining his clothing on it’s way to the ground. He slowly looked up from the woman at his feet. He was beginning to sway. “..Gavin?”

“Nines, shit-” Gavin dropped his gun and lunged forwards as Caleb collapsed, body hitting the ground with a painful sound even as Gavin managed to catch him. He swore and went to his knees. “Nines? Hey- piece of shit, can you hear me?”

Caleb let out an almost wet, static sound as he was turned over, and Gavin found himself gaping anew at the sight below him. A few feet closer and the damage to his chest looked so much worse. Parts were clearly missing, wires were disconnected and endlessly leaking blood. Gavin had seen androids in such a state before, seen them skinless, their torsos ripped open, lain across Andronikov’s worktable like a high school kid’s experiment. He’d seen Connor after a particularly bad scrap with his arm half-ripped off and a plate on his head missing. Every one of those times it had been easy to see the injuries for what they were, the inner workings of a machine, like the engine of a car. Now, the smell of burnt plastic threatened to make him gag as he tried to make sense of Caleb’s chest, pooling with blue blood and hot to the touch. Caleb made another noise, mouth opening to speak as he looked up at Gavin.

“Shut the fuck up,” Gavin said, focused on his chest. “I don’t give a shit. How do I..” he struggled, unsure of what to ask. “How do I help you?”

Blue blood was shining from inside Caleb’s mouth as he tried to respond. His eyes were on Gavin and _not_ at the same time. “I.. don’t know. I need to preserve power.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I am going into a standby.”

“No, no- shit! Stay with me, dipshit.” Gavin shifted so that he was leaning against the table, pulling Caleb into his lap with him. In his peripheral he could see the other android still managing to stay alive, LED bright red somewhere in the darkness. Gavin ignored him in favor of the grey eyes fluttering shut beneath him. “Hey! I said stay awake! Nines! _Caleb!”_ Gavin cursed again as Caleb’s breathing stopped. He knew androids didn’t need to breath, and yet something like dread was settling into the pit of his stomach.

“Shit. _Fuck!_ I-” He kept one hand on Caleb, trying to keep his body steady as he fumbled for his phone with the other. The blue blood pumping into his lap made his hands slick as he struggled for one of his emergency contacts. He closed his eyes as it rang and sucked in a harsh breath when a gruff voice finally answered.

“The fuck you want, Reed?”

“Anderson, I- I found him. I need help. Oh, _shit,_ I-” he looked down at Caleb, taking in again the exposed chest and rigid form. “He’s hurt and I don’t know what the fuck to do. I can’t- Hank, I-” Gavin realized he sounded much more desperate than he had any right to.

“Whoa, hey, calm down, kid.” Hank’s voice softened, any mirth suddenly missing. Gavin would’ve made some snide comment on it if his attention weren’t focused elsewhere. “Where are you?”

“Uh, fuck-” He recalled the address Sadie had given them, relayed it to Hank. “Fuck, Hank, he’s not responding. I don’t know how to help some piece of shit android-”

“Hey, hold on.” He heard Hank repeat the address to someone else, felt himeslf tense as he heard Connor’s voice in the background. “Alright, Reed, tell me where he’s hurt.”

“It’s not just some fucking injury, it’s- his entire chest is open. There’s blood, and wires, and fucking..”

“Okay. We got people on the way.” Hank’s voice became muffled again as he spoke to Connor. “Can y’see his thirium pump? It’s like the heart, middle of the chest.”

“Think so. It’s red.” Gavin leaned down and moved his hand towards it, hovering. It was thumping sluggishly, pushing thirium out of various cuts and tubes with every pump. The sight was weird as hell. He hated the way his hand shook as he looked down at it. He hated the way he could hear the shakiness in his own voice. He swallowed.

“Still pumpin’ though, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, right.”

“Then he’s got time. Listen to me, kid.” Gavin listened. He could hear a car cranking somewhere beyond Hank’s voice. “I don’t know what the fuck you were thinkin’ going out there on your own, but there’s both officers from the station and some of Jericho’s people headed your way. Either one should arrive in about six minutes. Anythin’ else we need to know?”

“Uh, fuck, yeah, there is.” Gavin glanced over at the woman, still lying on the ground. “There’s two suspects here, both incapacitated. A woman and an android. Woman’s knocked out. Android’s hurt.”

“How bad?”

“Three gunshot wounds to the chest.”

“Alright.” Hank cussed quietly and repeated it to someone. “Alright. Someone’s gonna take you n’ Caleb to the nearest Cyberlife store. I’ll see you there.”

“The fuck am I supposed to do until they get here?” He looked back down at Caleb, still lying limp against his chest. The LED had faded from a bright red to a dull one.

“Focus. Are _you_ hurt?”

“No. Don’t think so.”

“Alright. I’m passin’ the phone off to Connor. Stay on the line till someone gets there, you fuckin’ hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“Good.” There was a noise, movement.

“Hello, Detective Reed.”

Those six minutes felt more like six hours. Connor spoke to him a steady stream of words that stopped making since long before they ended. He was being asked about the state of Caleb’s chest, about certain biocomponents he could barely make out between the dim lighting of the room and the blue blood and the bile burning at the back of his throat. The red error lights inside of Caleb’s chest reflected off of thirium, turning everything a bright red and much too close to human.

Gavin didn’t know why he felt like he was freaking out. Maybe it was because he’d never experienced seeing an officer go down first hand before.

He was no stranger to high-stress situations, or to the feeling of being powerless. He was a fucking police officer, after all. Half of his life was stress. He’d failed jobs, worked cases that kept him up at night. He was no stranger to loss, either. He’d lost family members, a cousin to car accident and a grandparent to age. He’d known coworkers that had been killed on the clock and felt the heavy weight in his gut when Fowler stepped slowly out of his office to announce that Officer Tony Rainey had been shot chasing a suspect. Gavin knew what it was to stand back and watch while shit hit the fan. Loss, powerlessness, and stress were all just part of the job.

But all of those instances had been secondhand. He’d had a layer of _something_ to hide behind, to use as an excuse as to why he couldn't do more. He wasn’t present when they happened, or it was something he couldn't stop. Now, though, with his sad excuse for a partner lying still in his arms, he felt should’ve been able to act. He should’ve been able to help. Weren’t androids a hell of a lot easier to fix than humans, anyway?

Jericho arrived first. An android Gavin only vaguely recognized as one of the ones from the news back in November knelt over him, his hands deft and gentle in the way they handled taking Caleb’s. “My name’s Josh,” He said, before another appeared to help slide Caleb from Gavin’s lap onto a stretcher. Connor was speaking from the phone.

“Reed? I believe Jericho should have arrived by now.”

“Yeah. They’re here. They’re taking him.” He watched as two androids lifted Caleb with ease, starting towards the back entrance to the building. Another was helping the android he’d shot, and a fourth kneeling next to the woman Caleb had taken out. Gavin began to rise to follow the others out and found himself slipping in the thick puddle of Caleb’s blood. He fell onto his forearms, gagging, even though he was already covered in the shit and it was scentless. He could hear Connor’s voice, suddenly worried.

“Reed? What happened?” He asked, as Gavin fumbled for his phone again.

“I fell, dumbass.” He began pushing himself back up, only to find another Jericho android was helping him stand. Gavin shrugged him off and watched as Caleb’s body disappeared through the back door. “I’ll meet you two at the fucking android hospital. I gotta head home, first.”

“Don’t worry. The Lieutenant and I will remain with Caleb.”

“Yeah, uh, okay.”

Connor’s voice softened in a way, like Hank’s, he had never heard before. “We’ll let you know what happens.”

The call ended, and the android who’d introduced as Sarah told him to leave as she examined the man he’d shot earlier. He complied and called a taxi home for a change of clothes. He didn’t bother with another shower yet, instead heading out with a bit of thirium still staining his hands as he got on his way to the Cyberlife store.

 

\------

Hank and Connor, true to their word, were both waiting when he arrived. They were sitting side by side in the front lobby as a study in opposites. Connor was sitting ramrod straight with his hands drumming anxiously in his lap, watching every part of the room, while Hank was hunched forwards, frowning up at the news playing quietly on the only visible TV. Gavin shoved his hands in his pocket as he approached. “So, what’s the verdict? Is the asshole still alive?”

Hank looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. “ _That’s_ how you’re gonna ask, when you called me soundin’ like a scared kid over all this?”

“Shut the hell up,” he said, looking to Connor for an answer. The damn android had the audacity to look amused.

“He should be fine, Reed. It will simply be a while before the repairs will be completed.”

“Of course it will.” Gavin took the empty seat to Hank’s right, moving his arms behind his head to lean back against them. “How long is a _while?”_

“Few hours,” Hank said.

“And now that you are here, Reed, I should get going.” Connor stood, adjusting his tie, and looked down at the two of them. “I am needed back at the precinct. I will assume you’re capable of finding your way home without me, Hank?”

“Course, as long as you didn’t fuck up my car when you replaced the tire.”

“I can assure you I did a perfect job.” Connor smiled a lopsided smile, then nodded to the both of them. “Good night. I will see you later.”

“Later, kid.”

Connor left. Gavin found himself shifting uncomfortably in his chair until he was half sitting sideways in it, one leg drawn to his chest and his arms crossed. The waiting room was quiet as hell. There were only one or two other people waiting; an android with a kid laying asleep in her lap and an elderly man sitting across the room, wringing his hands together. A receptionist talked quietly with her neighbor. Soft music that he couldn't quite make out played from a speaker somewhere overhead while the TV switched from the news to playing cartoons Gavin vaguely remembered from his childhood.

Eventually he looked at Hank. The man looked exhausted, still wearing the clothes he’d worn earlier at the precinct. Gavin sighed.  “You know, you should head out too, Anderson. I can let Caleb crash at my place tonight.”

“Nah, I can stay.”

“You don’t need to fucking babysit me. I’ll be fine.”

Hank didn’t look up, but there was a twitch of a tired smile on his lips. “No one’s fine sittin’ in a waiting room alone, kid.”

Gavin felt himself stiffen. He looked away from Hank, but he could still picture it- Detroit Central, busy as hell, especially in autumn. The Hank Anderson from four years ago, a little more blonde, a little less cynical, sitting just as he was now and hoping for good news that wouldn’t come. Gavin remembered that Hank’s ex-wife had been out of town. He would’ve been there alone. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for.”

“Fuck, yeah, there is. And for a hell of a lot more than that.” Gavin shifted, pushing his back against the back of the seat and letting both legs fall to the ground. Hank gave him an incredulous look.

“The fuck are you on about?”

“Look, Hank.” Gavin avoided his gaze, took a long breath through his nose. “I- _shit._ I never thanked you for helping me out back when Josh ran off. And I..” He looked up at Hank. He really did look like shit. This wasn’t the best time, or place, to be dredging up the past four years. Whatever. He’d already gotten started. “You were there during the single toughest year of my fucking life. I wouldn’t have made it through that shit if not for you. Then when you were the one spiralling out, I- I did fucking _nothing_. I avoided you as much as you tried to push everyone away. I should’ve, I don’t know-”

“Whoa, whoa, Gavin,” Hank let out a disbelieving laugh. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Fuck, I don’t blame you for avoiding me. I was a piece of shit. I still _am._ ” Hank shook his head. “There was nothin’ you could change anyway.”

“I could’ve at least checked up on you every now and then, or some shit. Goddamnit, Hank, every day you were late to work we were ready to suspect you’d finally offed yourself.” Gavin pushed a hand through his hair, closed his eyes. “Damn, I just.. I’m sorry, alright? S’all I wanted to say.”

“Well, shit, apology accepted.”

Gavin looked over at Hank to find the man leaning forwards, forearms resting on his knees, eyes on the damn ground. They sat in silence, for a time. Gavin crossed his arms and turned his attention to the TV. It was back on the news. He didn’t comprehend a word that it said.

Eventually there was small talk between the two of them, about the coming spring and what bars still hadn’t reopened since November. They talked the case for a good half hour, and it almost felt like the old days, when they’d take lunch at some shitty burger joint and talk things over. When they had trouble they’d come to the wildest conclusion possible and work backwards. A trick of Hank’s, and it had always helped. It was.. comfortable. Brought on by exhaustion. At around four in the morning Hank fell asleep slouched over the arm of his chair, arms crossed and snoring softly. Gavin toyed with his phone for a while before he felt himself fading out as well.  By the time it hit five, they were both slumped halfway out of their chairs, dead asleep.

Caleb found them that way at exactly 5:24am, as he entered the waiting room area in the change of clothes Connor had brought him earlier in the night. Part of him was surprised to find that Gavin was there. Part of him was glad. The moments before he’d gone into standby again were still unclear, but he remembered Gavin. Remembered being worried for the detective’s safety. He did a scan and relaxed when he found no new injuries, only evidence of moderate sleep deprivation and heightened stress levels. He walked forwards and gently placed a hand on Gavin’s shoulder, shaking him.

The detective slowly blinked awake, making a small sound as he grabbed the chair’s arms to shift himself back into a sitting position. It took him a moment to look up and register Caleb. “Shit,” his said, voice still groggy from sleep. “Nines. You’re up.”

“Hello, detective.” Caleb straightened up once he knew Gavin was awake and took a step back. The other man nodded slowly.

“Good to see it. Hey- hey, Hank.” Gavin used the back of his hand to lightly hit the man beside him, looking over as he sat up. “Look. Dipshit’s back.”

“So he is.” Hank knuckled his back, stretching in his seat and popping something that sounded painful. He looked up at Caleb. “You good, son?”

“I am fine.” 

“Good. You wanna crash with me tonight or with this asshole?”

“It is morning, Lieutenant, and..” Caleb looked between the two of them for a moment. “I believe I will go with Detective Reed. To save you the trouble.”

Hank nodded. “Alright. But you ain’t a trouble.” He stood, placing his hands on Caleb’s shoulders. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.”

Hank nodded again. “M’kay. See you around.” He glanced down at Gavin. “You too, kid.”

Caleb smiled at him as he walked away, then turned back to Gavin. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah.. yeah.” Gavin stood. “Yeah, we should go. Uh..” He paused. Caleb tilted his head in response. “It’s good yo see you, shit head.”

“You as well, Detective.”

Gavin nodded. “Come on, then. We gotta call a taxi. My car’s still at a fucking crime scene.”

 

\------

 **Processing..  
** **Time: 7:28am  
** **Date: February 20th, 2039**

Caleb sat sideways on Gavin’s couch, watching as morning light filtered in through the window. Something about, well, _everything_ felt sore. It was not like pain, but he felt stiff, tense, unnatural. Rest was needed to allow a full recovery, but he was finding it hard to remain in standby. The events of the past day concerned him. He didn’t recall much of any of it. What he did remember- James Hart, brief glimpses of the truck he’d been taken to and the woman who had worked on him- would have to be uploaded to the precinct’s database as soon as he got back to work.

Gavin had long since gone to sleep. As soon as they arrived the detective had tugged some pillows and a blanket out from the closet and tossed them to the couch. To Caleb’s surprise, he had intended to take the couch for himself and allow Caleb the bedroom. “Because you almost fucking died,” Gavin had said. It took a small bit of convincing to make him sleep in his own room, and moments later he’d stumbled down the hall and disappeared for the remainder of the day.

There was not a full report on what had happened yet, as Gavin would have to write that himself, but what _was_ in the case file was significantly different than it had been when Caleb last looked at it. The ST300, now listed as Sadie, had been caught and questioned. She had given them names, locations, even androids she had suspected had been taken. The girl had done her research, and done it well. Her information would quickly further the investigation.

That Gavin had used it to come for him was interesting. It was a development in their relationship, one that Caleb was confident to list as a _good_ one. It was comforting. He felt the man could almost be listed as a friend, now. He wondered if there was a way he could return the favor of saving his life to Gavin.

An error blinked at him in the peripheral of his vision. He needed to go into standby, needed to heal. He sighed and leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes.

 **Initializing Standby..  
** **Standby Initialized.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the end of this chapter being a little rushed.


	8. Update

I know, I hate "update" chapters too. But it's been over a month, so.. yeah.

I haven't forgotten this project! And I do intend to finish it. Soon. I've just had a crazy life since August. A lot has happened, and I lost the drive to work on this in the mean time. It kind of took a backseat to every thing else and I wasnt happy with what I was writing. I think about it literally every day I don't work on it.

Yall, I love this fic. I'm very proud of it. And there's still scenes and moments to come that I'm incredibly excited to show you. So I wanted to give you a quick update and a time table on when I think I'll be posting again.

As of right now, both of my siblings are in the process of moving into their own places. That means, for the rest of this week, I'm helping move things and watching the kids when other people are moving things. After Monday, I expect things are gonna slow down. So give me another week, and I'm gonna have this going again. And I'm gonna delete this update. Probably.

Thank you guys, so much, for being patient with me.

As I'm impulsively posting this from my phone before I head to bed, I can't post any previews of chapter 8, but I'll tell you this: you can expect to see a little more of Connor, a little more of Hank, and what Gavin is like when he has to deal with publicity.

**Update for the update - October 11th**

Hey, so, there's some hurricane stuff going on right now. It's gonna be another hot minute before I can upload the chapter. Apologies! 

And for the record, dont worry, I'm not like, in danger of death-by-hurricane, but we are getting hit by some pretty strong storms. So. Yeah. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a lyric from the song Easy by Son Lux. 
> 
> If you want, you can find me on tumblr @short-blonde-andaverage and on twitter @_ravenify. I'm always down to talk robots. I also have an ask blog now for RK900, @ask-rk900-caleb. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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